Absence Does Something To The Heart
by nubiem
Summary: Happily engaged to Ron, Hermione returns to Hogwarts to complete her seventh year. But the end of the war brings about a change in the teaching style of the school with a big impact on inter-house cooperation. Hermione/Ron, Hermione/Draco, Ginny/Harry
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the characters. They are the property of JK Rowling and I am not profiting from this piece in any way.**

**A/N: This is the first fanfiction that I've posted here (or anywhere, really) but I've written out a few different ones before. However, this is the first that I've felt confident enough to share. Hopefully I should be able to get updates out fairly regularly, though they probably won't be as long as this first chapter is due to my general lack of patience. **

**I've tried to keep this as in character as possible, and things will be explained as the piece pans out. I hope you enjoy it, and please leave me some reviews to let me know what you think.**

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><p><em><strong>Platform 9 and ¾<strong>_

_**10:45AM**_

_**September 1st, 1998**_

"Have fun, Hermione," Harry said, arms pressed around her and a quick kiss on her cheek. "Look after Gin for me, won't you?"

"Harry, Ginny duelled with Bellatrix Lestrange and survived," Hermione said, pulling out of his embrace and smoothing out the creases in her shirt. "I think she can look after herself."

Harry rolled his eyes, taking Ginny aside to give her a private farewell. Ron took his place in front of Hermione, grasping her hands and bringing them softly to his lips. It was a gesture so intimate that Hermione blushed at it being done in front of so many others on the platform, but her embarrassment was quickly lost in a bout of happiness when Ron pressed his lips to her own.

"I'm going to miss you," he said afterwards, their foreheads resting against one another. "I'm going to miss waking up next to you and seeing that rock on your finger and knowing you're mine." He paused to kiss the sparkling engagement ring he had given her just two weeks prior. "I'm going to miss your smile and the freckles on your nose." Another kiss, this time to the tip of her nose. "I'm even going to miss you yelling at me when I don't feed that bloody cat of yours."

"Oh, Ron," she said, pulling him close and kissing him with as much force possible, the scarlet steam engine screaming in the background. "I'll miss you so much."

"I know," he untangled himself, gave her a light kiss on the forehead. "Now go and catch your train before I change my mind and force you to stay."

Hermione laughed and squeezed her fiancé's hand once more, trying to hide the tears in her eyes. A few began to leak out as she waved goodbye to Harry, pulling Ginny onto the train behind her. Their luggage had already been stowed away so the two joined their possessions in their compartment. Both stayed silent as they collected themselves before throwing the window open to look for their beaus.

Harry and Ron were laughing together, searching for Hermione and Ginny's faces at the window, both beaming when they caught sight of their witches.

The train started pulling away as Ginny blew Harry a final kiss. As it picked up speed, the two girls fell against their benches in the same breath.

"It feels strange going back to Hogwarts without Harry and Ron," Hermione said, twisting her engagement ring. "It feels strange to be going back at all."

"Maybe this is what we all need," Ginny offered. "A return to a bit of normality in our lives…well, as normal as Hogwarts ever gets."

Hermione offered her friend a smile. "I _was_ hoping for a quiet year, but I guess with this," she gestured to the Head Girl pin she had placed on her top when they had entered Platform 9 and ¾, "the year will be a bit more stressful than I had hoped."

"At least Terry will be a good Head Boy," Ginny said, referring to Terry Boot who had been appointed as Hermione's male counterpart according to the letter the brunette had received from Professor McGonagall.

Even with all the proper seventh year students, two returning seventh years had been appointed as the Heads. Hermione had almost anticipated a Slytherin to be picked, perhaps Theodore Nott, as everyone was so keen to promote unification between the houses, but she was pleased that someone as intelligent and level-headed as Terry Boot had been chosen instead. The two had always worked well together and she had found him to be more than capable during their fifth year within Dumbledore's Army.

Luna and Neville joined their compartment after the first hour of travel, holding hands. Crookshanks, Hermione's beloved familiar who had someone managed to survive the warfare, hissed from his basket perched on the floor. The four of them discussed what the castle would be like this year and everyone fell silent as they imagined the terrible sadness it would cause to be back in a place where so many friends had died. Hermione placed a hand on Ginny's back when the girl let out a sob they could only assume was for Fred.

The mood was lifted with the arrival of the food trolley rattling down the train, and for the rest of the trip, the group indulged in pumpkin pasties and an assortment of sweets from Honeydukes, separating only to change into their robes. By the time the train reached Hogsmeade Station, conversation was exhausted and their stomachs were growling again, eager for the welcoming feast to begin.

Hermione hopped off the train to catch the first thestral drawn carriage to the castle with Terry Boot for an early meeting with Professor Slughorn before dinner.

"Good holidays, Hermione?" Terry asked as he helped her into the carriage which set off at a faster pace than usual as soon as he was seated.

"They were okay. It was nice to let down my guard after…" she didn't want to mention the war and she had glided over the countless funerals she had attended. "How about yours?"

"Yeah, they were alright. My parents were a bit upset I was coming back here again, but when McGonagall offered me Head Boy, I couldn't say no," he said, bouncing slightly in his seat as the carriage stuck in a pothole. "Besides, I don't think last year really counts as a seventh year. Didn't learn much, other than not to piss off the Carrows."

Hermione was spared having to reply to a comment she wasn't sure she knew how to address by the arrival of the carriage at the gates.

"Miss Granger, Mr Boot, welcome back to Hogwarts," Slughorn said, indicating they should follow him through the entrance hall and up two staircases. "As you can see, the castle has been restored to its former glory, with only a few locations with irreparable damage. It shouldn't cause any interference with the running of the school, though parts of your duty, when on patrol, will be to ensure no students enter the areas in case of injury. Now, here we are."

The three halted in front of a landscape of the Black Lake. The giant squid's tentacle could be seen poking out of the water, shifting slightly with the ripples of the water and the shake of leaves. Slughorn reached out and poked the tentacle which transfigured itself into a doorknob.

"Now, Miss Granger, your living quarters are to the stairs on your left, and Mr Boot, the same on your right. The other students should be arriving in roughly five minutes, so Professor McGonagall expects you in the Great Hall in no longer than ten minutes for the sorting and feast," Slughorn patted his stomach which growled loudly at the mention of food before bustling back the way they came.

Hermione followed the Potions Master's directions and emerged from the stone staircase into a small apartment with light hardwood floors and dark red walls. The room was accented with small amounts of gold, walls plastered with bookshelves and it featured an adjoining kitchenette. Being a couple of floors up, she had a view of the forest, Hagrid's hut peeping out right at the edge of the trees.

It was the bedroom which took Hermione's breath away, which was through a large oak door near her miniature kitchen. A king sized bed sat against one wall, facing a window with extraordinary views of the grounds. The bed itself was lavish, covered in numerous pillows and cushions and topped with a luxurious blue quilt, the front of which was emblazoned with the faint outline of a lion, demonstrating her house pride. Aside from the pattern on the quilt, the room had deviated from the traditional Gryffindor pride which was throughout the rest of her living quarters.

The walls were painted a light blue, similar to ones she had been surrounded by in her childhood, and the floors were a light wood, partially covered by a soft white rug. There was a large wardrobe and an even bigger bookshelf with an adjoining ensuite. She ran out of time to explore, Terry knocking at her door to say they had two minutes to get to the Great Hall. He had already headed down once she past the picture of the Black Lake, the tail of his cloak disappearing around a corner.

Hermione hurried after him, never one to be anything less than perfectly punctual, and sidled into her seat next to Ginny at the Gryffindor table, across from Neville. The sorting progressed too slowly for all the older students who were eager for the feast, but Professor McGonagall rose to her feet before the food had appeared.

"I am very pleased to welcome you all back to Hogwarts after the horrors this castle saw during the last school year," McGonagall began, trying to be brief. "There are just a few short announcements I would like to make. Firstly, our new Head Boy is Terry Boot of Ravenclaw, and the Head Girl is Hermione Granger of Gryffindor house." A polite round of applause followed, no one startled by the decision. "Next, there are a few areas of the castle which we have been unable to repair. As such, these areas are strictly out of bounds, along with the Forbidden Forest. Prefects are instructed to inform their houses of these locations following our feast. And finally, I would like to tell you all that in light of recent events, any aggression towards other houses will not be tolerated in the slightest way."

The last announcement was punctuated by gleaming looks at both the Slytherin and Gryffindor tables by the staff. "Anyone caught partaking in such acts will be punished harshly, and there are no exceptions to this rule."

"I hope that doesn't include the Quidditch pitch," Ginny muttered to Hermione who just rolled her eyes.

"And now, with that out of the way, I hope you all enjoy our marvellous feast," McGonagall took her seat once more and Hermione heard the cries of delight from the new first years as every table was covered in a range of delicious foods.

The Head Girl filled up her plate with shepherd's pie as she filled in Ginny on her new living space.

"You _have_ to let me visit," the redhead said. "I wish I got my own apartment. The Gryffindor Common Room is always so noisy."

"You can come up whenever you want, Gin," Hermione shrugged. "It'll get pretty lonely, otherwise."

"And I don't have to worry about walking in on you and my brother again," Ginny shuddered.

Hermione cringed at the memory of being interrupted during a very intimate moment with her fiancé. They had all been staying at the Burrow and it was the night of their engagement party. The guests had mostly left, so she and Ron had snuck up to his room for a bit of time together. But Molly, wanting the couple to be present to farewell _all_ of the guests, had sent Ginny after them to ensure they came straight back down to the garden. Hermione and Ron had been so preoccupied that neither of them noticed the creaking of the floorboards as Ginny climbed up the stairs until she had burst through the door, finding them in a compromising position.

"Yes, well, if your mother had just given us a few seconds of privacy then it wouldn't have happened," Hermione said, her face hot. Ginny just laughed, her brilliant red hair rippling in a curtain down her back. Hermione had endured enough displays of affection between Harry and her best girlfriend that she supposed it almost made them equal. Almost.

"Can I come and visit tomorrow after classes?" Ginny suggested, to a sound of affirmation from Hermione.

The main courses faded away to desserts, and, as usual, Hermione was fit to burst by the time she had finished a slice of cheesecake. Professor McGonagall dismissed the students and she trailed after Ginny for a short time until she had to veer away to her own dormitory.

On the counter of her kitchenette lay an envelope addressed to her. She pried open the scarlet Hogwarts seal and found a list of instructions and duties she was to perform whilst Head Girl. The list, whilst not particularly challenging, would be time consuming, further limiting her time to prepare for her N.E.W.T.s, be sociable, and write to her fiancé.

She sighed, opting for a shower in her gleaming bathroom and an early night rather than worrying about her responsibilities for the year.

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><p><em><strong>The Great Hall<strong>_

_**7:30AM**_

_**September 2nd, 1998**_

"Double Potions with the Slytherins every Monday?" Ginny groaned over her bacon, waving her schedule in front of Hermione's face. "What a way to start the week."

Hermione picked up her own schedule, frowning at the lack of spare time she would have. "Monday…Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, Transfiguration, lunch, double Potions. And Magical Theory after dinner."

"I swear, McGonagall is off her nutter," Ginny said, sounding so much like Ron that Hermione had to check she hadn't transfigured into her fiancé. "Look how many classes she's given us with the Slytherins!"

"Her way of promoting inter-house cooperation, I suppose," Hermione pushed her scrambled eggs around her plate as she scanned over the remaining days of the week. She was due to have Charms, Transfiguration, _and_ Potions with their rival house, and for the briefest moment she regretted choosing so many N.E.W.T level classes. In the past, they had combined students from all houses into the N.E.W.T lectures and practical lessons, but with the added number of students repeating their seventh year, there had been some alterations made to the timetable to ensure each student got their fair share of attention from their professor.

"Oh well," Ginny shrugged. "I have a free period and then Divination, so it looks like my morning won't be too bad."

"Lucky you," Hermione said, a small crease forming between her brows. She gulped down the last of her eggs and finished up her pumpkin juice, tucking her schedule into her satchel. "Look, Gin, I'm going to go and send a quick letter to Ron and then I have to run to class, so I'll meet up with you in Transfiguration. Save me a seat?"

The redhead nodded, mouth too full to speak, and waved Hermione away. The brunette witch wound her way through the Great Hall, dodging late comers, and hurried along to the Owlery. She had scrawled her fiancé a short letter the night before, explaining her new residence, and Ron had told her to owl him as soon as she could. Taking it literally and scheduling herself enough time to do so, Hermione had endeavoured to post him a small note on her first morning.

The Owlery was as empty as she had expected, with just the soft hooting to accompany her. She picked out one of the school's barn owls to deliver her note. She had planned on getting herself an owl, but amongst the rush of her engagement, deciding to come back to Hogwarts and moving in with Ron, her plans had been lost. The owl swept out of a window and Hermione watched it fade into a speck into the distance before checking her watch.

She had fifteen minutes to get back to the castle and into her Arithmancy classroom. Arithmancy, her favourite subject, was to be a class shared with students from every house, as the demand for places in seventh year Arithmancy was quite low. Hermione had been hoping for a lesson without any Slytherin presence, purely because, as immature as she found herself to be, she was unsure how to face some of the people in that house. She had watched her friends be cut down by their relatives and the thought of seeing their faces made her feel sick to her stomach.

From her observations in the Great Hall at the past two meals, she had seen the return of Pansy Parkinson, Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini, Daphne Greengrass, and Draco Malfoy himself, who had watched her get tortured by his own aunt. Just the thought of it sent shivers up her spine, made her body ache where Bellatrix had harmed her.

Hermione managed to get to one of the empty desks just seconds before Professor Vector arrived to begin the class. She noted the few students who had opted for the class: Malfoy, who was seated with Greengrass in the back corner, Padma Patil, sitting with Michael Corner, and Hannah Abbot, who offered the Head Girl a shy wave but made no move to sit with her.

"A bit of quiet, if you wouldn't mind," Professor Vector tapped her wand needlessly against her desk, demanding the attention of the six students. "In light of recent events, Professor McGonagall has asked that all students are to be paired with members of other houses to promote unity. As such, it appears there must be one or two changes."

Hermione's breath caught in her throat. She wasn't sure she could face either Draco or Daphne, not just yet, but she was spared when Professor Vector, who always seemed to have a soft spot for the Gryffindor, paired her with Hannah instead, matching Daphne with Michael and Padma with Draco. The professor handed out a few complicated charts to each pair, asking them to decipher the message within the next hour. Hermione and Hannah worked together solidly, finishing their charts seconds before the chime rang for the end of class. Professor Vector assigned the first chapter of their textbook for reading to be done by their next class, dismissing the students.

Daphne and Draco led the way to the Ancient Runes class Hermione shared with the pair. She gave a small smile to Hannah Abbot who departed towards the dungeons and lagged a significant distance behind the two Slytherins who seemed to be on the receiving end of numerous hateful glances in the short walk to their next class. No student dare say anything against the pair, lest they be punished by the numerous prefects and teachers who walked the halls between classes, patrolling for any misdeeds.

Professor Babbling was already setting up the lesson by the time they arrived, Draco and Daphne slinking to a table in the back corner again, whilst Hermione took her usual seat up the front. The professor gave the same speech about promoting inter-house cooperation as Professor Vector had, but as they were focusing primarily on revision for the lesson, there was no need to move students around. Hermione visibly relaxed, sure she would have her fair share of Slytherin company in the hour of Transfiguration and two hours of Potions still to come.

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><p><em><strong>The Great Hall<strong>_

_**Noon**_

Ginny hadn't stopped grumbling to Hermione about their hellish Transfiguration lesson. McGonagall, who was still managing to teach her classes and run the school, had instantly enforced her rule of sitting with members of another house. Hermione had been placed next to Blaise Zabini, who, to her luck, had remained quiet for the hour long lecture, only speaking when Hermione asked him something and on those occasions, using a gentle voice.

Ginny had not been as lucky. She had been placed with Pansy Parkinson, who still treated Ginny like she was some filthy animal, turning her nose up and refusing to do anything the redhead asked. Ginny still held a grudge against Pansy for her willingness to give up Harry during the Final Battle, and the Slytherin made no move to apologise for what she had said.

"I mean, she wanted to give up my boyfriend to be _murdered_," Ginny continued after they had sat down, each helping themselves to some food. "The least she could have done would be apologise, but she deserves to give me a hell of a lot more."

Hermione tuned the rest of her friend's ramblings out, instead propping up her Arithmancy book on a jug of pumpkin juice. Ginny redirected her rants towards Neville, who hadn't made it into the N.E.W.T level Transfiguration class and was spared the so called torture of McGonagall's meddling. They could only hope that Slughorn wouldn't adhere so strictly to the rules placed down by the Headmistress, but the Head Girl doubted it. Their Potions Master, whilst jolly and normally quite happy to please the students, would be one of the staff all too keen to promote unity between the houses.

The pair of girls traipsed silently and slowly down to the Dungeons after finishing their lunch, letting other students meander passed them. Slughorn had already put up the title of the potion they were going to be making, a Dreamless Sleep Potion, and had listed the ingredients on the blackboard.

"Welcome back, welcome back," he boomed, rubbing his stomach cheerfully as the students filed in. "Now, before you get too comfortable, I'm sure you're all aware that you are to sit with members of another house." Hermione inwardly groaned, slumping slightly next to Ginny. "So, up you hop. I've drawn up a revised seating plan," he flourished his wand and it appeared on another blackboard, "so quickly find your new partner and get to work!"

Hermione searched for her name on the board, finding it next to Theodore Nott who was already halfway over to her, his books stacked up. Ginny had been placed with Blaise Zabini and she offered Hermione a melancholy wave as she went to join the Italian Slytherin.

"Nice rock, Granger," Theodore greeted her with, dropping his belongings on Ginny's empty desk whilst Hermione set up their cauldron.

"Pardon?" she asked, not looking up at him. The diamond on her left hand glinted and his meaning was clear. "Oh, thanks."

"I don't bite," he said, turning and walking to the supply cupboard to gather their ingredients.

Hermione remained behind, watching the charismatic Slytherin. He certainly had never been outwardly rude to her, unlike his housemates, but his father had been a Death Eater and she had therefore classed the junior Nott as someone to avoid. Nott had always been an admirable student, handing in all of his work on time, his grades only slightly lower than her own, and he had remained clear of Draco Malfoy's little gang. In fact, there was no solid evidence in her mind that Theodore Nott was anything like his housemates, other than his father.

"We need to heat up the cauldron first," she said when he had returned, all of the necessary ingredients bundled tightly in his arms. He lined them all up neatly on the table, in a similar manner to how she would have done, erasing further doubts about the boy she had in her mind. "Thanks."

"No problem," he replied, focusing back onto the potion, carefully adding ingredients one by one. They worked silently for twenty minutes, both with their brows creased, glancing between the instructions in their textbooks and the changing colour of their concoction. After the hectic part was over and their brew had to be left to simmer for thirty minutes, Hermione cleared away all the mess they had made with a flick of her wand.

"How's Head Girl treating you?" Theodore asked. She could see he was bored by their silence, and she wouldn't admit it to him but she was a bit fed up with it, too.

"Seeing as we've only been back for one day, I've hardly experienced it," she took her seat again, writing her observations of the potion on a length of parchment. "I thought you were a shoe in for the Head Boy position. Terry's smart, but your grades are higher than his."

"Almost as good as yours, Granger," he said, a smile tugging at his mouth. Hermione turned to look at Theodore Nott truly for the first time, noting a scar on his chin and another thin one on his eyebrows, dark brown eyes similar to her own, and perfectly sculpted cheekbones. An neat mop of brown hair hung slightly over his forehead, and Hermione determined that he certainly was not an aggressive looking character. "I think McGonagall would have faced serious opposition from some of the students if a Death Eater's son was given Head Boy. And being friends with some of my housemates," he inclined his head slightly towards Draco who was working next to a silent Pavarti Patil, "wouldn't have helped my case either. Doesn't matter, though. More time to relax."

"I don't think Professor McGonagall really considered friendship circles when she chose the Heads," Hermione said, mouth turned down at the corners. "That's really shouldn't be a concern."

"Granger," he began, "you're engaged to a war hero, your best friend is the 'Chosen One', and your girlfriend over there," another inclination of his head, this time towards Ginny, "is dating him. You don't think your choice in friends influenced her decision, even in the _slightest_ way?"

She opened her mouth to retort but had to concede he had a good point. What if she had chosen to dither about with Pavarti Patil and Lavender Brown in their first year instead? Would she have maintained such steadily high grades? Would she have made Head Girl? Would she even be _alive_ after the events of the last year? She shuddered to think.

"See what I mean, Granger?" he said, then frowned. "Hang on, do you want to be called Granger or would you rather I got you used to Weasley?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Neither, actually. I have a first name, _Theodore_," she said, noting his cringe at the use of his first name.

"What sort of name is Hermione, anyway?" he asked, checking the time and looking down to their potion. They still had a few more minutes before it needed any attention.

"It's from a play by Shakespeare," she said, rereading over her notes. "A muggle playwright," she added.

"I may not read much muggle literature but I still know who _Shakespeare_ is," it was Theodore's turn to roll his eyes at her. "We need to add the last few ingredients."

Their faces formed an identical mask of concentration as they partook in the most complex part of the potion making, being certain to stir it seven and a half times counter clockwise, then eleven and a third time clockwise for five consecutive cycles. Other students who had reached the same point where not getting results anywhere near as precise as Hermione and Theodore's, whose mixture had reached the desired purple colour.

"Ah, I think I see a new dream team in the making," Slughorn boomed with a wink towards the only successful pair in the class. Blaise and Ginny had ended with a light pink potion, and Draco and Pavarti's attempt had resulted in a plum coloured concoction, rather than the desired lilac. All the other students had fallen well short of the mark. "There may yet be a place for you in my little club, Nott, my man."

"Thank you, sir," Theodore said, giving the teacher a charming grin as all the potions in the class evaporated with a wave of Slughorn's wand.

The Potions Master assigned homework to all the students who had failed the task, asking them to research why their potions had not been successful before he dismissed them for the day, sending a collective groan throughout the students. Hermione was just pleased she had been given a somewhat successful partner as she wasn't sure how much more homework she could take onto her plate.

"Dream team, eh, Granger?" Theodore caught up with her outside the classroom. At the sight of her eye roll he amended his statement. "Oops, _Hermione_."

"Thanks, _Theodore_," she said, watching him wince.

"It's Theo, actually," he said.

"See you tomorrow, Teddy," she said, grinning as he cringed again.

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><p><strong>AN: As you can probably tell, this is has no beta. I have a small amount of experience in editing, so I looked over it myself, but it always pays to have a fresh eye look over it. If anyone would like to beta my story, please message me!**

_**Hermione's Class Schedule:**_ I've read that there are three classes before lunch at Hogwarts, followed by another two periods after the midday meal. Furthermore, students are also able to choose from a variety of extra-curricular studies, including Magical Theory, Alchemy, Muggle Art, and Ghoul Studies. As I was not able to fit these into the timetable I had devised for Hermione, I opted to make these night time classes, hence her attendance to a Magical Theory class every Monday and Tuesday after dinner. I assume most students wouldn't take these classes, and people like Ginny would instead fill their time with Quidditch practice, but I felt it important to note why Hermione's timetable is a bit odd.

_**Dreamless Sleep Potion:**_ I wasn't quite sure how advanced this potion would be, but it seems like something that could be quite tricky to make. As such, I assigned it to the seventh year class. Harry drinks this in his fourth year at Hogwarts, after seeing Voldemort's return, and he notes that it is purple in colour.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I'm so pleased that I was able to get this chapter out so quickly. I honestly have nothing to do with my days but write and listen to the rain, so I'm getting a lot done. I have two other Draco/Hermione one-shots in the works, so hopefully I'll have at least one of those up soon.**

**I want to thank the people who put this story on alert/gave me a review. As a new writer on this site, it honestly means so much to hear what you have to say and it warms my heart, so thank you!**

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><p><em><strong>Slytherin Boys Dormitory<strong>_

_**8:00PM**_

_**Monday, September 2nd, 1998**_

Theo reclined on his four poster, fingers interlaced and hands behind his head. His roommates were still at dinner, though he could hear someone climbing the stairs to the seventh year boys room. He sat up, glanced in the mirror to straighten his hair, and waited to greet his fellow Slytherin.

Draco wandered in, walking straight over to his own bed and falling on it with a punctuated sigh. Theo and Blaise were the only people Draco considered equals, and therefore the only people he would act like a normal eighteen year old male around.

"Something wrong, Drake?" Theo asked, returning to the relaxed position he had assumed earlier.

Draco Malfoy had certainly changed in the past few years. His pointed features from his childhood had straightened out to be regal in appearance, but last year, his face had adopted a sunken quality from the stress of housing the Dark Lord. Now, it had returned to its former handsome shape, but he seemed to walk around with a constant scowl which passed a shadow over his whole face.

"We're treated like scum, Ted," Draco said, pulling off his sweater and rolling the sleeves of his dress shirt up to his elbows. Theo could see the faded Dark Mark tattooed on his best mate's left forearm, twitching with every movement of the blonde. "Two years ago, no one tried _anything_ with us. And now, not even Hufflepuff first years are scared."

"I know, mate, but we're only here for a year." Theo restrained himself from voicing anything to offend Draco, knowing that he could very well burst at any moment. The Malfoys weren't people you wanted to be around when they were angry, and Draco was no exception to the rule. He attempted to move the conversation to safer waters. "Besides, you get to work with the Patil girl in Potions for the week. She's hot, so at least Sluggy's class won't be that bad."

Draco groaned. "She looks at me like _I'm_ the one who killed her best friend," he said, falling back onto his pillow. Theo winced at his lack of sensitivity. "And she's completely incompetent. At least you got paired with someone smart."

Theo smirked at the memory of his Potions lesson. "Granger's a surprising amount of fun," he admitted, mussing up his hair with his hand. "You know she's _engaged_?" Draco just raised a perfectly groomed eyebrow at him. The blonde pretended he was above all the trivial gossip, but one of the main reasons for his unspoken role as King of Slytherin was his innate ability to find anything out. "Big ring, too. A bit boring, but big."

"Wonder how much it cost Weasley to give her that," Draco mused. "I should finish that homework Sluggy set us. Patil added too many porcupine quills whilst my back was turned, so unlike you, I have to write up a report on her idiocy."

He was tempted to tell his friend to lighten up and give the Gryffindor a break, but instead Theo just watched Draco work through a sheet of parchment with his neat cursive. Theo had been spared any homework on his first day, having completed everything necessary in his classes. Blaise joined the pair, having tired of the girls at the Slytherin table who had become his only company. He made a disgruntled comment about controlling redheads as he took up residence at his desk and worked on the same paper as Draco.

"I can't _believe_ you got paired with Granger," the Italian said, crumpling up his third attempt at a decent report. "You're the one bloke in the class who doesn't need any help and yet you get _her_."

"We'll be swapped around next week," Draco said, looking up triumphantly from what Theo could only assume was his finished homework. "Don't be too worried, Blaise. How was your partner, anyway?"

"For all her prowess on the Quidditch pitch, Weasley lacks any knowledge of teamwork."

Draco sniggered, putting his quill away and returning to his spot on his bed, leaving the completed report on the desk. Blaise looked up at the open bit of parchment, but Draco caught him and whipped out his wand, summoning his homework to him and away from his mate's greedy eyes. "Not a chance, Zabini," the blonde kicked back against his pillow, assuming a similar position to Theo's. He let out another tremendous sigh, attracting looks from both his roommates. "I don't know why we even bothered coming back this year."

"Uh, maybe because last year was basically spent being monumental dicks and being governed over by a psychopath?" Blaise offered, getting increasingly frustrated with his homework. His normally perfectly tousled hair was now a mess, disarrayed after running his hand through it countless times. Draco cracked the slightest hint of a smile at the Italian's statement, but his fists clenched. Theo watched the skull and snake on his arm dance with the movement.

"Besides," Theo said, "there aren't going to be many places to hire us with our last names and a pathetic excuse for a seventh year under our belts. We may as well give ourselves a bit of a boost and do well this year."

"Easy enough for you to say when you have Granger for a partner," Blaise had his tongue poking out the corner of his mouth, scrambling to finish the last of his report. From where he was sitting, Theo could see Blaise's handwriting was almost twice its normal size, stretched to fill as much space as possible. Draco once again reminded him that their partners would be swapped soon enough, but Blaise just responded with a snort.

"It won't be very good for grades if they keep swapping us around," Theo said, thinking about how disruptive a weekly change in partner would be.

"Maybe they'll filter us through everyone in the class and then see who we worked best with," Draco suggested, interrupted by a loud cry of "Done!" from Zabini as he finished his homework.

Theo and Draco laughed at their roommate's outburst, quickly sobering up when Lee Harper, their other roommate who was technically a year younger, walked through the dormitory door. Draco immediately sat up and rolled his shirt sleeves down, straightened his tie and flattened his hair. His face adopted its usual cool sneer, deterring Harper and sending him scarpering back down to the common room.

Either way, their good mood was broken. The three packed up their things and took turns in their bathroom, each turning in for the night early.

* * *

><p><em><strong>The Great Hall<strong>_

_**8:30AM**_

_**Saturday, September 7th, 1998**_

_Hermione,_

_It's good to hear you've settled in, and if the wards weren't so tough, I'd pay you a visit to your private quarters._

_Here is good, too. Harry is going to postpone his Auror training for six months so we can go through it together. He's got a lot of publicity stuff to go through while I help George in the shop, so I don't feel too bad. We've found a flat together in London and are moving in on the weekend so Mum and Dad can have some space._

_Let me know when there's a Hogsmeade visit and Harry and I'll come meet you._

_I love you,_

_Ron._

Hermione beamed at the letter before Ginny snatched it from her hands, skimming it.

"Do you know when there'll be a Hogsmeade visit?" she asked Hermione, tossing the note back to her. "I'm in the mood for some Honeydukes chocolate, and as long as Harry doesn't take me to Madam Puddifoot's, I'll be happy."

Hermione laughed, tucking the letter into her jeans. She had spent her weeknights catching up on homework and was therefore blissfully free for the first weekend of the term. After much nagging, Ginny had finished her work, too, leaving them to do as they pleased. "There's supposed to be a trip in a fortnight or so, but McGonagall hasn't finished organising it," she told the redhead. "How about we go for a walk after breakfast and then you can come back up to my apartment?"

Ginny agreed, swilling back the last of her tea. The early morning air was cool and the day would still be warm with the last taste of summer, but they could see a few leaves starting to turn, the sun taking on the golden light it would only possess in the autumn. Most students were still lazing about in their dormitories or having breakfast in the Great Hall, but a few had taken on the same idea as Hermione. Some of the athletic ones were going on runs around the grounds, an attempt to work off the rich Hogwarts food.

"Urgh," Ginny made a noise and nodded towards three approaching figures Hermione quickly recognised to be Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini, and Draco Malfoy. Her redheaded companion stuck her nose haughtily in the air and marched straight past the trio, an action which seemed to amuse both Zabini and Nott. Malfoy just continued on his way, shoulders slumped.

"Hey, Mione," Theodore said, turning to face her whilst still walking backwards with his friends. She refused to let him see her cringe at the nickname he had blessed her with in their week working together in Potions.

"How's it going, Teddy?" she replied, and he was not skilled enough to hide his reaction. He turned back in the same direction as Zabini and Malfoy, but she noticed his gait seemed slightly jollier.

"_Teddy_?"

Hermione stopped abruptly at the sight of Ginny, hands on her hips, looking shockingly like Mrs Weasley.

"What?" she asked, dodging her friend and continuing her walk towards the lake.

"Since when have you given Slytherins nicknames, Hermione?" Ginny kept pace.

"Since we were paired together in Potions and I didn't want to be called Granger anymore," Hermione said. "I said he should call me Hermione, he said I should call him Theodore, and then I called him Teddy as a joke."

Ginny made a sound of disapproval which Hermione chose to ignore.

"It's not a big deal, Gin. The War is over. I don't see why we can't at least be _civil_."

"Are you going to be civil next week if Sluggy pairs you with Malfoy?"

They had reached the edge of the water and Hermione kicked off her shoes and sat on the shore, dipping her toes into the cool lake. She could see a tentacle of the Giant Squid waving off in the distance, the whole picture not unlike the painting which led to her dormitory. She digested Ginny's words, letting a heavy silence fall between them.

Could she be civil with Malfoy? Malfoy, the boy who had watched her get tortured, who had stood by as his aunt cut her up, inflicted the Cruciatus Curse upon her so many times that she had lost count and thought she was to go mad with the pain. He had taunted her mercilessly for six years of her life, calling her every dreadful name under the sun, and no doubt making up a few choice ones of his own.

"I'm not really sure, Gin," she finally admitted, moving her toe in a spiral to create a pattern in the water. "I can try, but I don't know."

Ginny sniffed, clearly believing she had a victory under her belt. Hermione continued to think about forgiving other Slytherins, or at the very least setting a good example for the younger students and making polite conversation with them. Teddy had been easy, having no personal grudge against him. She could imagine a similar situation with Zabini, who had always been polite and reserved with her. The same could be said for Daphne Greengrass, who Hermione shared several classes with.

She knew the Slytherin girl to be intelligent and well-spoken, someone who seemed to fit more into Ravenclaw than Slytherin, though Hermione supposed the girl's genes would have placed her in the emerald house. If she had been placed in Ravenclaw, Hermione was certain the two would have become friends through their studies, and she may have been the Gryffindor's main competition for Head Girl.

"C'mon, let's go back to your room," Ginny said, helping the brunette up and wandering back up to the castle.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Later that day<strong>_

_**Slytherin Common Room**_

"_Mione_?" Blaise tossed a pillow at Theo, smacking him straight in the face with the green cushion. Draco, sitting in the comfiest armchair of them all as though it were a throne, sniggered. "You were practically mooning over her, _Teddy_."

Theo rolled his eyes, pelting the cushion back to the Italian but missing. "I was _not _mooning over that Gryffindor. I was just being polite," he said, regretting his decision to say anything to the Head Girl at all. It had just been a bit of taunting and he had thought his friends were far away enough that they wouldn't hear him, but apparently he had pushed his luck too far. "It's better than acting like I have a right stick up my arse and being a prat to everyone, Blaise."

"I'm not being a prat."

"Then why did Weasley treat you like you had Dragon Pox?" Draco asked, his usual smirk twisting his face.

"I may or may not have sabotaged her report we had to do on the Dreamless Sleep Potion," Blaise looked away from his friends as he spoke. "She was being a twat when we were making it, so I made a few corrections of my own to her homework. When Slughorn handed them back, she saw what I'd done, realised it must have been me, and has been acting like a child ever since."

Draco groaned. "Only because you've been acting like a first year, moron."

"See, isn't it better to at least appear relatively mature and talk to them?" Theo pointed out, waiting as Blaise and Draco both reluctantly agreed. "Look, we have nine months left around these people, so why not work just a little bit to make them _slightly_ tolerable?"

"As long as we don't have to be civil on the Quidditch pitch, it'll be fine," Draco said, propping his feet up on the coffee table. "But fine. I'll be civil. Blaise?"

"As long as the rest of them aren't as snotty as Weasley, I'll be okay," the Italian agreed.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Arithmancy Classroom<strong>_

_**9:02AM**_

_**Monday, September 9th, 1998**_

"You've _got_ to be kidding me," Hermione said beneath her breath as Professor Vector revealed the seating plan for that week. Beside Hermione's name, which had been moved to a seat in the back corner, sat Draco Malfoy's name in the professor's neat script. The Head Girl collected her books, keeping her eyes low as she slide into the seat beside her new partner.

Both avoided eye contact. Simply being in such close proximity made goosebumps break out along Hermione's flesh. When Ginny had asked if she could be civil around Malfoy, Hermione had underestimated the amount of trauma she had truly been through around him.

"We need to compare these two charts and take down any major differences," Malfoy said, voice quiet, still not looking at her. He reached across the desk to pull their work closer and her body turned in on itself, backing away from his outstretched arm. His body stiffened at her movements, then relaxed until he was nearly slumped across the surface. Regaining his composure, he finished what he had started. "And then we have to decipher what each chart means."

"I'll work on this one," Hermione pulled the closest chart to her over and dipped her quill in an ink well.

"We have to work together to find the differences," Malfoy said, pulling her chart back to the centre of the table so they could be observed together. "Or can't you put up with me for even an hour?"

There was no spite nor malice in his voice, but a genuine curiosity. "I'm finding it a bit difficult after my visit to your charming manor," she said dryly, feeling a small thrill of regret as her partner quailed. Hermione was well aware that he had been forced into everything that had occurred during the war, that he had tried his hardest to spare Harry when they had been caught by the Snatchers. "Sorry. That was uncalled for."

"I'm the last person you should be apologising to, Granger," he said. "There's a slight difference in sequence on the third row. Mine means full moon, yours means no moon." He circled the differences, making small annotations on each chart.

"You didn't actually _do_ anything to me," she said. "Here. This order means summer equinox, yours is about winter." She copied his movements, circling the differences and making notations.

"Exactly," he said and spotted another change in their charts. "I didn't do anything. I stood by and watched and was too much of a coward to say anything."

They both knew his words were true but she had nothing left to say. She couldn't defend his actions, not whilst Bellatrix had carved into her flesh. Instead, she chose to focus solely on the work, frustrated that by the time the class had reached its conclusion, they had been finished for a full twenty minutes and had just been seated in a tense silence.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Hermione's Quarters<strong>_

_**Later that evening**_

A few damp tendrils escaped the bun Hermione had piled on top of her head, sending droplets of icy water down the back of her neck to wet the back of her pajama top. Her hair was drying quickly as she sat in front of the fire, waiting for nine o'clock when Ron's face was due to appear. She had requested special Floo permissions from the Headmistress, enabling incoming and outgoing Floo calls but restricting visits completely. Hermione and Ron had quickly scheduled a time and a place for their first call, and even though she had only been away a week, Hermione was missing her fiancé more than she thought was possible.

Perfectly on time, Ron's face flickered into view. She couldn't help the smile that broke out on her face at his presence, her cheeks aching with its size, her heart swelling when she saw the lazy grin he reserved strictly for her.

"Hey," she said, wanting to reach out and brush a strand of his hair away from his eyes. She had been fussing over him, instructing him to get a haircut before she left, but his red hair had remained shaggy.

"This is better than owls," he commented and Hermione noticed his eyes rake over her face, lingering on her lips. "Much better." Her face flushed and she was pleased colours could not be distinguished through this form of contact, though she knew he could see how she bit her lip, looked to the ground as she always did when embarrassed.

"How are you? How's work?" she asked, moving to tuck her knees beneath her chin and staring intently at her fiancé. She had enjoyed spending her time with Ginny, but the younger girl had her own friends, her own group to be with, and Hermione could sense she was intruding slightly. "I miss you," she added at the thought, feeling a lump grow in her throat.

"I know, babe," Ron said, eyes weary. "I miss you, too. And I'm good. Tired. Georgie isn't coping so well, so there's a lot of work at the shop. I'm thinking of getting Harry involved, too."

As if on cue, Ron's face disappeared from the fire with a loud _pop_, replaced by her best friend's crooked glasses and unruly hair. "Hey, Hermione," Harry said, grinning. "How's Hogwarts?"

"Oi, bugger off! She's my fiancé," Ron's voice broke through the Floo network and Harry's head vanished.

"She's _my_ best friend."

Another _pop_. Harry's face returned.

"How are you two _ever_ going to live together?" she laughed as Harry's head vanished for a final time, replaced with Ron's once more. "You're acting like first years." She missed their antics as soon as they ended, remembering their roughhousing when they'd all be together in the common room or going on a stroll through the grounds. Her heart hurt at the thought of the two of them having such fun with her hours away, nose in a book, revising for exams.

"You alright, Hermione?" Ron asked and her eyes flickered back to his face. "Is anyone giving you any trouble?"

She wanted to laugh at his concern but it came out as more of a choked sob. "I'm fine. Just missing you guys. It gets a bit lonely, you know?"

"When's the next Hogsmeade trip? We can all go for a butterbeer in the Three Broomsticks and you can ask McGonagall if we can come up to the castle. You can give me a private tour of your room," he threw in a wink for good measure, looking a fool and Hermione couldn't help herself from laughing.

"Three weeks. It's on a Saturday," she said. "I can't wait to see you."

"I can't wait, either. But look, Harry's getting ready to interrupt us again, so I better go."

"Okay," Hermione caught her lower lip between her teeth for a moment. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

With a final _pop_, Ron's face vanished from the fire.

Hermione scooted away and into a plush armchair, eyes still on the flickering flames for another look at his face. Instead, the fire just burned brighter until her eyes began to water and she turned to a particularly tedious section of her Arithmancy textbook, reviewing the work she had completed earlier that day.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Hogsmeade Village<strong>_

_**Midday**_

_**Saturday, October 5th, 1998**_

Light snow was starting to fall in the small wizarding village as Hermione and Ginny rushed past students and teachers alike to find their way to the Three Broomsticks. Both had put a bit more effort into their appearance, having been away from their beaus for over a month, and as a result neither of them had dressed appropriately for Hogsmeade's perpetually frigid climate.

Their dresses flapped about just above their knees, coats a bit too thin to keep out the cold. But the weather was of no concern to the two as they nearly broke down the door of the Three Broomsticks in anticipation. Ron and Harry both looked up at their commotion, faces beaming when they noticed the new arrivals.

Ron was the first to reach them, pulling Hermione tightly into his arms and pressing a firm kiss to her lips. She snaked her arms around his neck, interlocking her fingers and holding herself close to him for as long as possible. They broke apart, grinning like fools, oblivious to the show they were putting on for the other witches and wizards.

Harry and Ginny were partaking in a similar display, though theirs was much less reserved than Hermione and Ron's had been. The brunette laughed under her breath at the couple as she moved to take Harry's seat beside Ron at the table. He called for two more butterbeers and held her hand beneath the table, rubbing his thumb against the soft skin of her hand. She smiled at him, leaning in for another quick kiss.

Their companions returned to the table, both looking thoroughly snogged with Harry's hair even more of a mess than usual and Ginny's lipstick smudged slightly across her face. They copied Hermione and Ron's stance, holding hands beneath the table, making light conversation.

The pub's door blew open, bringing with it a gust of cold air and three new arrivals. Their table looked up, seeing Blaise, Draco and Theo slouch in, collars turned up against the cold. Blaise broke away from the trio to order drinks at the bar, leaving the other two to search for a table. They brushed past Hermione's group, Draco offering Harry a stiff nod.

Harry had testified on behalf of the Malfoy family over the summer, clearing them of all guilt and allowing them to pass through the trials without any repercussions, other than a severely bruised ego. None of the Malfoy clan had expected him to do anything of the sort, having already saved Draco's life during the Final Battle, but Harry held what he believed to be an unpayable debt to Narcissa for lying to Voldemort for him.

Theo's passing was not as quiet, stopping beside Hermione. "How's it going, 'Mione?"

She was past cringing at the name, instead just rolling her eyes. The two had been paired in Transfiguration again and McGonagall had chosen them as the most successful partners for each other. Thus, they were to be working together in that class for the rest of the year, and Theo had wasted no time in trying to strike up a friendship with the Head Girl. If he wasn't a Slytherin, Hermione could see herself becoming close friends with the snake. He was much more intelligent than she had ever given him credit for and armed with a wicked sense of humour, making their lessons together highly enjoyable and stimulating for her.

"Not bad, Teddy. How are you?" she asked, ignoring Ron's frozen hand underneath the table and his fast rising temper.

"Bit chilly, but can't complain. I'd love to stay and chat, but I can see you're on a double date and Drake's looking a bit lonely over there," Theo said. "Pleasure to see you, Weasley, Potter."

He sauntered over to the disgruntled looking blonde in the corner and Hermione was left on damage control.

"Made a new friend, I see?" Harry remarked, looking back at the two Slytherins. His tone was light, but Hermione could see the concern in his eyes, aware that he was simply trying to look out for her.

"He's really nice, Harry. Nothing at all like his father," she said, turning her attention to her fiancé. "Ron? Are you okay?"

"He's a Death Eater, Hermione," Ron had withdrawn his hand from her grasp, wrapping both his palms around his butterbeer. "Or at the very least, his father was. I don't want you having anything to do with him."

"What?" Hermione couldn't help her voice going up a pitch. "Is that what you think? That he's a Death Eater?" Ron just nodded in affirmation. "And you think I'll stay away from him because it's what _you_ want me to do?"

"Oh boy," Ginny muttered under her breath, face red with embarrassment.

"Yes, Hermione, I think you will stay away from him if I ask," Ron said, trying to keep his voice low. They had successfully avoided attracting the attention of the other patrons, but the whole table was aware that it wouldn't last at the rate they were going. "I want you to stay away for your own good. He could hurt you!"

"And you don't think I've realised that, Ronald?" He winced at the use of his full name. "You don't think I'm capable of looking after myself? I'm not a child."

"Well, you're acting like one," Ron said, voice a furious whisper.

"You're acting like a jealous brat, so I suppose we're even," she retorted, snatching up her bag and breaking away from the table. A couple entering the Three Broomsticks made way for her, noting the wild look of her hair and flushed face.

Hermione tugged on her coat as the snow began to fall heavily, trying to get away from the pub as quickly as possible. She couldn't hear Ron calling after her so she assumed Ginny was still chastising him inside. It only took two minutes for her bones to ache with the cold and the most promising place in her line of sight was Honeydukes, overflowing with Hogwarts students.

A few extra galleons in her pocket, Hermione squeezed her way into the sweet shop, losing herself in the smell of sugar.

* * *

><p><em><strong>The Three Broomsticks<strong>_

_**At the same time…**_

"Trouble in paradise?" Blaise asked his housemates, watching the hushed fight between Granger and Weasley.

"Looks like you're breaking up the Golden Couple, Ted," Draco said, sipping deeply from his foaming glass. He had watched with curious eyes as the wizarding world's darling had vanished out the front door, hair crackling with anger. She had a two minute head start, Weasley being held back and admonished by his younger sister. Draco smirked at the shade of red Weasley's face had turns, at how uncomfortable Potter looked.

"I didn't do anything," Theo said, glaring at Draco who gave him his usual smirk. "Weasley's always had a temper."

The three Slytherins watched Weasley came to his senses and shrugged on his jacket, hurrying out into the cold. "You're in, Ted," Draco commented. "Granger looked furious. If you're lucky, she might call off the wedding."

"Can you stop being such an arse for just one minute, Drake?" Theo asked. "I'm your best mate, so maybe you should consider stop being such a royal dick."

"I think you touched a nerve, Draco," Blaise said, hiding his grin behind his glass. Draco arched a brow at Theo, but nodded apologetically. It was as close to a proper apology anyone ever got out of a Malfoy.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Please review! And once again, if anyone would like to act as a beta for me, I would be overjoyed.**

_**Arithmancy**_**:** As Harry doesn't take this class, there's not much really known about it, but it's the study of complicated charts of numbers as a way of telling the future.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I hadn't intended on keeping chapters so long, but whilst I was in the middle of writing this, we went into a blackout. Luckily enough, I work from a laptop and was able to keep working. But the power was out for so long that I just kept on writing and writing this chapter and it ended up stretching out to quite a ridiculous length.**

**I want to offer another thank you to the people who have put this on alert, added it to their favourites list, or reviewed. You are all so lovely!**

* * *

><p><em><strong>Hermione's Quarters<strong>_

_**4:30AM**_

_**Sunday, October 6**__**th**__**, 1998**_

Hermione had woken from a nightmare and moved to lie on her side, watching her slumbering fiancé.

Ron had chased her to Honeydukes, begged for her forgiveness in the middle of the sweets store. The desperate look on his face and sincerity in his eyes had swayed her, letting him walk back with her to the castle, his jacket slung around her shoulders for extra warmth. The couple had stayed up until the early hours of the morning, sitting on her bed with cups of tea and an assortments of chocolates and candies he had bought for her from Honeydukes, talking about everything until, close to three o'clock, he had begun to nod off.

She had slept for an hour and a half before the nightmare begun. It had started with a bitter laughter, turned to a shrill cackling. Then, in the fog of unconsciousness, hands had pinned her down and no matter how hard she fought, she couldn't break free. Finally, the true horrors begun. Millions of pins were sticking into her body, someone was hammering at her joints, her skin was melting off her bones. Or that's what if felt like. In fact, her physical body remained unharmed in the dream, but there was nothing unharmed about how she felt.

When the fires began to die out across her skin, they were replaced by a blade. It would cut and slice and carve, controlled by an invisible hand, egged on by the laughter which ricocheted in her skull, bouncing off her ears until her head felt fit to explode and she woke in a layer of sweat, hands running unconsciously over the scars which had not healed on her torso.

Ron had slept through her fit, snoring lightly. She wanted to curl into his chest and sob but she didn't want to disturb him. Hermione opted to let him sleep away the bags under his eyes, consoling herself by climbing silently from the bed and tiptoeing out of the room. The fire was close to burning out and her flat was cool, drying the sweat on her skin. She boiled some water and poured herself a cup of tea, taking it over to the embers with a copy of her Ancient Runes textbook.

She had spent the week paired with Malfoy and it was another class where they had outshone everyone else whilst working together. At the rate the pair were going, they were to be working together in both Ancient Runes and Arithmancy for the rest of the year. There was just one more class for new partnerships to be tested in and that was Potions. Hermione had jumped from Theo to Blaise to Daphne and for the last week she had worked badly alongside Pansy Parkinson who had refused to aid the Gryffindor in any way. She was almost looking forward to working with Malfoy just for the sake of having a competent partner.

Her eyes skimmed over the translations in her textbook, pushing the nightmare to the furthest recesses of her mind. It had been the same reoccurring horror at least three times a week since her visit to Malfoy Manor. The same laughter, the same pain, the same terror felt in every nerve of her body. She pushed a sweaty lock of hair off her forehead, trying to focus on a complicated sequence of runes as the shrill cackling played over and over in her head.

The sun was starting to rise before Hermione's eyes grew heavy again, her mind finally having erased the nightmare for the time being. She abandoned the nearly finished tome on her armchair and crawled back into bed, fitting herself into Ron's arms. He pulled her body flush against his own, mumbling something appreciatively in his sleep. She smiled against his chest before her drowsiness overcame her, forcing her into a dreamless doze.

When she woke, Ron was watching her with a small smile on his lips, tracing his fingertips up and down her arm.

"Morning," he said, moving forward a few inches to kiss her. "I missed this."

"So have I," she moved towards him again until their lips met again, moving against their partners until she was left gasping for air. "What time is it?"

"Half eight," Ron said, kissing along her jaw. "We can just spend the whole day in bed."

Hermione sat up abruptly, putting an end to whatever plan her fiancé had that tempted her to stay in bed. She rolled off the mattress. "I have a meeting with McGonagall at nine," she explained, running into the bathroom. As she stripped down and started the hot water, she could hear Ron complaining to himself on the other side of the door.

Her shower was quick, her hair still a tangled mess when she hurried back into the bedroom wrapped in just a towel. She could feel Ron's eyes on her before he pulled her over, kissing her deeply.

"I don't have time," she pried herself away reluctantly. "Go have a shower. We can hang out after my meeting."

She caught sight of a pout on Ron's face before she turned back around to change quickly into a pair of jeans and a large sweater whilst the shower started up again. By the time he had returned to the room, dressed in the crumpled up clothes he had worn yesterday, she had put her hair into a bun and was waving her wand around to tidy up the room.

"It's five to nine, babe," he said, watching her work. "I'll walk you to McGonagall's."

Their pace was closer to a run as they ducked through hallways crowded with sleepy students. When they reached the stone gargoyle at the foot of the stairs leading to the Headmistress' office, Ron pulled Hermione in for a long kiss, effectively taking her breath away for the second time that morning.

"I'm going to have breakfast with Gin but then I should probably get back to London," he told her, a crease forming between his eyes. "I'm sorry for being such a prat yesterday, but it was really good to see you."

"Oh, okay," Hermione stood on her toes to kiss him again. "I'll send you a letter."

"Sounds good," he said, turning and heading towards the Great Hall.

She watched him go until he was swallowed up by the castle, turning and speaking the password to the statue. Her mind wandered to their time together as she climbed the stairs to the office, entering at the sound of the Headmistress' beckoning voice.

Terry was already seated inside, looking much more presentable than Hermione was sure she looked. Professor McGonagall offered her a rare smile, asking her to take a seat and pouring out a cup of tea for her.

"Miss Granger, how has your first month back been?" she asked, placing the teacup in front of Hermione.

"Quite pleasant, thank you," the Head Girl said, sipping at the hot tea.

"Good, good. And I hope you and Mr Nott will work well together in my class. It's of the utmost importance that you and Mr Boot here work your hardest to cooperate with other houses in order to set an example for some of our younger, less accommodating students."

"Of course, Professor. I'm sure Theo and I will work well together."

"Well, excellent," the Headmistress came as close to beaming as McGonagall ever did, topping up her own teacup. "Now then, onto business, as it were. For the last ten years or so, Hogwarts has been in a state of disarray, meaning we have omitted some of our more enjoyable activities. The Samhain Ball is something which Hogwarts had held for many, many years on the night of All Hallows' Eve. For the past few years, it has simply been replaced with a feast. However, as the wizarding world is becoming more stable, Albus," she gestured to the portrait of Dumbledore which hung on the wall, his eyes twinkling, "believed that it would be a good time to reinstate this event."

"Most of the arrangements have been organised, and the evening will progress in a similar way to the Yule Ball in your fourth year," McGonagall continued, and Hermione remembered the glittering Great Hall, her argument with Ron, how she had spent the last part of the evening in tears. "Similarly, only students from fourth year upwards will be allowed at the event, and that is where you two come in. You will be expected to gather the names of students who will be attending. Younger students will only be eligible to attend if accompanied by an older student."

"So Hermione and I are to simply collect the names of students?" Terry clarified.

"That is correct, Mr Boot. You two will also serve as a role model for the younger students and, as such, it would be encouraged if you promoted the inter-house unity we are so desperate to achieve this year. It could be something as simple as a single dance with a member of an opposite house, but it must be observed by the other students that two of our brightest are willing to put their best foot forward and interact with members of other houses."

"We will be expected to bring dates, I assume," Terry said and McGonagall nodded in response.

"Correct again. However," and now the Headmistress turned her gaze directly to Hermione, "you will be unable to bring a partner from outside of the school, Miss Granger. There are too many security issues and it would no doubt induce a large influx of unwanted visitors to the grounds. I apologise, but this is my final word on the matter."

"I understand," Hermione said, biting her lip in frustration. Who was she supposed to bring as a date if Ron was unable to come? And how would he react if she took anyone other than him?

"Now, there will be a list of instructions to follow awaiting you in your respective quarters. Students will be coming up to you whenever they please to record their attendance to the ball, so I encourage the pair of you to carry your ticket sheets around with you at all times. If neither of you have any questions, you're free to go," McGonagall dismissed them, Hermione leading Terry out the door and down the spiral staircase. They went their separate ways, Terry veering off to his quarters and Hermione heading to the Great Hall, keen to see if Ron was still around or if there was at least a scrap of food left.

Harry and Ron had both just left, a very tired Ginny informed her, but they had saved Hermione a small amount of food. The younger girl rested her head on the table.

"We were up all night," she said, turning away to yawn. "Because he couldn't come up to my dormitory, you know? So we tried to get to the Room of Requirement, but it was all messed up and wouldn't give us what we asked for. Harry said something happened to it in the Final Battle. But we went back to the Common Room and just stayed up all night there because the couches weren't big enough for us to sleep on them together. Why do you look so tired?" the redhead asked. "Wait, if it's something gross then I don't need to know what you were doing with my brother."

"Nothing like that, Gin," Hermione said, working her way through the bacon and eggs which had been set aside. "I had a nightmare and ended up only getting a couple hours of sleep."

"Ron didn't comfort you?" Ginny assumed, refilling her cup of coffee. She winced at the strength.

"He looks so tired and I didn't have the heart to wake him," Hermione finished off the last of her eggs. "I think working with George is putting a strain on him."

"Probably," Ginny agreed. "Georgie is a wreck since…"

Hermione nodded, noticing Ginny's eyes well up at the thought of her late brother. The brunette reached across the table to pat her friend's hand and tried to change the subject.

"So, I just had a meeting with McGonagall and there's going to be a Samhain Ball at the end of the month," Hermione said, watching Ginny's face brighten. "We can't bring dates from outside, but it'll be a lot of fun."

"I need new dress robes," Ginny frowned. "D'you think there'll be another trip to Hogsmeade soon?"

"Next weekend, from what I've heard," Hermione scraped her plate clean. "C'mon, let's go back to mine. I have to collect names of students who want to go, so I'm assuming I can add your name to the list."

Ginny nodded, prodding the tentacle of the Giant Squid as they reached the Heads Quarters. When the pair reached Hermione's apartment, the Head Girl found McGonagall's instructions beside a large box of strawberry flavoured Sugar Quills, her favourite sweet. The box had been wrapped with a large gold bow and was accompanied by an apology note from her fiancé, bringing a smile to her face. Ginny cracked open the box and started sucking on one of the treats immediately, Hermione following suit.

"Who are you going to ask to the ball?" Ginny asked, nibbling on her quill as she sprawled herself out in front of the fireplace which was crackling merrily.

"I haven't a clue," Hermione sighed, curling herself into a ball in an armchair. Crookshanks leapt onto her lap, purring contentedly as she scratched behind his ears. "McGonagall is going crazy over inter-house cooperation, so I'm assuming someone from another house would be for the best. That said, I don't really have many friends outside of Gryffindor."

"I was thinking Michael Corner," Ginny mused.

"Your ex-boyfriend?" Hermione paused scratching her familiar's ears and raised her eyebrows. "Harry would just love that."

"You're right," Ginny frowned and let out a sigh. "I suppose I could go by myself."

"At least you don't _have_ to find a date," Hermione continued pleasing her cat who had begun to grow restless. The creature calmed down at her touch. "McGonagall says Terry and I need to have dates."

"Michael?" Ginny offered.

"No offence to your past taste in men, but I'll pass," Hermione shook her head. "I'll figure it out later, I suppose. There's no rush. Worst case scenario, you and I can go together."

* * *

><p><em><strong>Transfiguration Classroom<strong>_

_**11:30AM**_

_**Monday, October 7**__**th**__**, 1998**_

"No, you're doing it wrong," Hermione grabbed Theo's arm, stopping his harsh jabbing motions. "It's not that harsh."

"Bloody hell, Hermione," he moved his arm from her grasp. "I'm not a first year. I know how to use a wand."

"Well then how come your table still has the legs of a dog?" she asked, pointing to the hairy legs which threatened to wander off with the top of his transfigured table. "It's like this."

Hermione jabbed her wand forward with less force than Theo, flicking her wrist at the end of the movement. The table abruptly stopped moving, legs transfigured into ornately carved table legs with delicate clawed feet at the end. Theo glared at her, reversing her movements in an attempt to return the table to its former canine form. Instead, the piece of furniture kept the legs Hermione had created, but the top resembled the body of a Dalmation.

"Fuck," Theo muttered, repeating the spell until the legs matched the torso. The dog promptly curled up on the floor, watching the pair with sleepy eyes. "Why would anyone ever need to transfigure a dog into a table, anyway?"

"It's about practicing incantations and complex wand movements," Hermione said, sitting on the floor to scratch the Dalmation's ears. They had fulfilled Professor McGonagall's requirements which stated that each pair had to transfigure their canine at least once each. No other pair had completed the task yet and there were tables walking all over the classroom.

"Right, obviously," he sat beside her, lavishing attention on the dog. "You taking Weasley to the Samhain Ball?"

Posters had been plastered up over the school overnight and Hermione had already been greeted by a rush of students eager to put their names down. Theo's question took her by surprise, unsure of his motives behind asking. What would he care if she was taking her fiancé to a school function?

"No," she answered slowly. "McGonagall said no outside visitors for the ball. There'd be too many students wanting to bring partners who don't go to Hogwarts and the castle would be too overcrowded. Who are you taking?"

"No idea," Teddy said, watching a flustered Pavarti Patil chase her table across the room. "Blaise got Daphne and Drake asked Pansy before I was even out of bed. The last Slytherin girl I would even consider is Millicent, and really, I'm not certain she's even a girl."

Hermione tried to hide her smile at his comment. She remembered the disastrous Polyjuice affair back in her second year after Millicent Bulstrode had placed her in a headlock. "No, I'm not sure, either."

"We should go together," Theo tossed an arm over her shoulders, winking at her. "Set the tongues wagging."

"As romantic as your notion is," she rolled her eyes and shrugged out of his arm, twisting Ron's engagement ring in circles, "I don't think that would be a particularly good idea."

"Worried about Weasley?" he asked, watching her twist the piece of jewellery. "It'd be just as friends, because that's what we are. There'd be nothing sinister, and your fiancé should probably let you choose your own friends. Besides, who else are you going to take? Boot? Because I'm pretty sure he doesn't swing that way."

Hermione scowled at her new 'friend'. "Yes, I am worried about what Ron is going to think. I know you saw his reaction at the Three Broomsticks on the weekend, and that was just a conversation. How do you think he's going to react if we go to a ball together?"

Another table with dog legs raced past them, this time pursued by Blaise who was waving his wand wildly through the air.

"Look, I know you're in love with your ginger, and I won't begin to understand how that's even possible, but you're allowed to have friends, you know," Theo said, laughing at his mate's attempts to catch his classwork. "But fine. If you want to end up going with some nerdy Ravenclaw, that's okay."

"Fine," Hermione said as the bell rang. Their Dalmation disappeared, as did all the other barking tables in the room. She snatched up her leather satchel. "I'll go with you to the ball."

"I might even bathe for you, 'Mione," Theo said, ruffling her hair as he strode past her and out of the classroom. She wrinkled his nose at his back but she was pleased that she wouldn't be turning up to the Samhain Ball by herself.

Theo, for all his annoyances, was right. She was allowed to have her own friends, regardless of what her fiancé thought. And she enjoyed the Slytherin's company. Their witty banter made her look forward to their trying Transfiguration lessons and she was certain this was exactly what McGonagall had in mind when she brought up house unity. Hermione would certainly face repercussions from this and Ron's anger was nothing to look forward to, but she had every right to take whomever she wanted to the ball.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Potions Classroom<strong>_

_**2:45PM**_

"I think we have a new top pair," Slughorn announced gleefully, staring down at the flawless luck potion Hermione and Draco had created. Hermione felt her face flush with pride at the announcement, though it was tainted with concern when she realised that Slughorn meant to pair her with Draco for the rest of the year. The two were already working together in Arithmancy and Ancient Runes. There had been no conflict between them, but Hermione still felt awkward and cold sitting beside the haughty Slytherin.

To his credit, he hadn't spoken to her since their first Arithmancy lesson except for things related to their work, but soon harder projects would be handed out and the pair would have to find time to be around each other outside of class, focusing on their schoolwork. Hermione knew that the best place for them to work would be her apartment, but she wasn't sure she wanted him in her private space.

"Well done, you two. I think I'm going to make an early assumption and pair you two together!" Slughorn moved around the classroom, pairing other groups up permanently.

"Look, Granger, you can ask for a new partner if you want," Draco said, uttering his first words to her all lesson. "I won't be offended. You already have to work with me in Arithmancy and Ancient Runes, and I understand it must be trying for you to be around me so much."

"No," she said quickly. She had never achieved such brilliant results in Potions as she had in this lesson and she wanted to keep working with him purely for selfish reasons. "I mean, we're both adults. We can be mature about it. I'll be fine, and there's no point in sacrificing good grades. I'm sure we can both be civil and won't resort to hexing the castle down over an assignment."

She saw the ghost of a smile on his face. "Okay. Thank you," he said stiffly, organising his books and avoiding her eyes.

Slughorn moved back to the front of the classroom, clearing his throat loudly. "Now that you've all found your designated partners for the year, I have an assignment for you all. It is routine of seventh year Potions students to participate in this and its results will impact nearly half of your overall grade. You and your partner are to write an in depth paper on a potion of your own creation. This will be a project which extends the course of the rest of the year, but it is not something you can accomplish in the last week before the due date." He gave Blaise a long look and Draco sniggered beside her.

"I expect an outline of your potion and its uses by next Monday, so off you go," he finished as the last bell of the day signalled their release.

"I have my own quarters this year, so it'd probably be best if we worked there," Hermione offered, figuring the pros outweighed the cons of letting the Slytherin into her apartment. "We can start work on it this afternoon, if you want."

"Sounds fine," Draco still wasn't looking at her but he nodded.

"It's the picture of the Black Lake on the second floor. Poke the tentacle of the Giant Squid and it'll turn into a doorknob. My room is the one up the left staircase," she left her instructions with him and joined Ginny in the hallway.

"_Teddy _ just passed on an interesting piece of information to me in that lesson," the redhead began as they traipsed out of the dungeons. "Apparently you two are going to the Samhain Ball together."

"It must have slipped my mind at lunch, Gin," Hermione said, squeezing past a giggling bunch of third year Hufflepuffs. "Sorry."

"Don't apologise to me," Ginny said, glaring at the group. "Apologise to my brother. He's going to be furious, Hermione."

"I'm allowed to have my own friends, Ginny. Ron doesn't get to choose who I socialise with. Theo is smart and funny and he's a friend of mine now, so your brother can learn to deal with it," Hermione said, tone harsher than she had wanted. "Anyway, Malfoy is coming over to work on our Potions assignment in twenty minutes, so I have to get changed and get my books ready. I'll see you at dinner."

The Head Girl took the last set of stairs two at a time, determined to have the last word, and slipped behind the painting of the Hogwarts grounds. Once in her quarters, she picked out a few of her favourite Potions books from the well-stocked bookshelves around the room and changed into a pair of jeans and one of Ron's old Weasley jumpers. She was just making a pot of tea when Draco arrived.

"Hello," he said stiffly, posture perfect as he sat in an armchair Hermione had gestured to. He was dressed down by his usual standards, a pair of black pants and a dress shirt with the top few buttons undone. Hermione noticed he had the sleeves rolled up slightly, but not to the elbow. She suppressed a shiver at the thought of what lay beneath the crisp white fabric.

"Have you had any thoughts as to what our potion could be?" she asked, sitting with her legs crossed beneath her on the sofa. She leaned forward to pour tea. "I haven't a clue."

"Hermione Granger clueless. That must be a first," Draco said, placing two sugar cubes into his cup with a generous splash of milk. She cracked a small smile but he had grown used to his habit of avoiding looking at her. "As it happens, I have an idea. I know there are healing potions, ones that can heal wounds and certain ones which are able to vanish scars, but there are some scars, usually the result of Dark magic that can't be removed with these potions."

Hermione thought of the long scars on her torso, the one on her neck which she covered with a concealment charm every morning. When the marks refused to fade, she had visited St Mungo's and found that they had been bestowed upon her by a cursed blade, that there were no potions or spells created to relieve her of the marks. "Go on," she prompted, sipping at her own drink.

"It would be difficult but with enough work, I think we'd be able to devise a potion to remove these scars," Draco said. "Or at the very least, make some headway in the area."

"Potions like these aren't top priority," Hermione nodded. "Not many people with incurable scars are willing to come forward. That's a really good idea, Malfoy." It felt strange complimenting him, but she saw his face turn slightly pink and a small smile on his face. "You should think about becoming a Healer."

"That's what I'm aiming for," he admitted, looking into his cup.

Hermione placed her saucer on the table and went to the pile of books she had selected out, flicking through to find any instructions on basic healing potions. She turned to the expanse of her bookshelf, standing on her toes to reach a book right on the top shelf. She considered pulling out her wand and summoning it down when she felt someone stretch up behind her. Draco's pale hand pulled the thick tome from the shelf and handing it to her.

"That was the one you wanted, right?" he asked, returning to his seat when she nodded.

"I remember a reference to this book when I was looking at healing potions last year, but I wasn't exactly in any position to get my hands on it," she said, flicking through the ancient pages. "It's a really old book and its said to have some of the very first potions in it. I'm sure I read something about medicinal mixtures. It'd be a good foundation to start at if we can go right back to the very core beginnings of healing potions."

"We'll need to have a look at Dark magic, too," Draco added, back on his feet and standing at the bookshelf. "Most of the books we'll need will be in the Restricted Section, I imagine, but we can start here."

"And we'll need some way of testing it, too," Hermione chewed on her lip absently as she searched for the page in her book.

"I'll be a test subject," Draco replied, just as vacantly. Hermione's hands paused in their search for her desired page, looking up at the blonde who was sifting through a stack of books he had withdrawn from the shelf. She knew such a potion wouldn't work on his Dark Mark, and she wondered what marks he would have which couldn't be removed. "Potter's curse left me scarred, but I have a few other scars on my back which won't fade," he added, meeting her gaze for the first time that year.

Even from their distance, she saw the heaviness in his eyes. He may only have been eighteen, but Draco Malfoy had seen things most would never see if they lived three lifetimes. Hermione noticed how old his silver eyes looked in that moment before he quickly flickered his gaze away and she felt a surge of remorse for him.

"I can test it, too," she said. She turned her head down but kept her eyes focused on the Slytherin as he looked up from his book for a moment, shocked, before looking back to his textbook.

They worked on their separate portions in silence until dinner, him focused on the cursed side of the potion, her working to modernise some of the instructions on the first healing potions. She had no idea where to find three hundred year old Boomslang skin and she made a mental note to do research on finding a suitable replacement.

When the clock struck seven, both looked up, confused at how quickly the time had passed. Draco stood first, stretching his legs and tidying up the stacks of books which had ended up strewn about. He made an excuse about having to go to his dormitory quickly, leaving her free to walk down to the Great Hall without quiet whispers from other students at seeing the two of them together.

She travelled down by herself and joined a disgruntled Ginny at the Gryffindor table, feeling ready to apologise for how she had behaved after their Potions lesson.

"Gin, I'm sorry about earlier," Hermione said, putting some mashed potato onto her plate. "I shouldn't have acted so horribly about it, but it's just frustrating when my own fiancé doesn't think I can take care of myself. He shouldn't be able to tell me who I can and can't be friends with."

The redhead's face softened. "I know, but Ron's always been like that," Ginny smiled. "He's so overprotective of the people he cares about. Remember when I was dating Dean? But maybe you should write to him and let him know that you're taking a Slytherin to the ball, rather than letting him find out about it through someone else."

Hermione nodded in agreement, the two finishing their dinner whilst trying to find Ginny a date for the upcoming event.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Two chapters in two days – I'm certainly getting through this much faster than I had anticipated. Once again, please review and let me know what you think!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I know having a ball is somewhat of a cliché in any story set at Hogwarts post-war, but I felt a Halloween Ball was quite appropriate seeing as it is a festival which has long since had links to magic.**

**Once again, massive thanks to all you lovely readers who have reviewed, favourited, or put this piece on alert. It means so much to me to have people reading my work and legitimately enjoying it!**

* * *

><p><em><strong>Hermione's Quarters<strong>_

_**6:40PM**_

_**Thursday, October 31**__**st**__**, 1998**_

Hermione stood in front of the mirror, carefully pinning a lock of smooth hair out of her face. She had spent the afternoon trying to tame her hair with Sleekeazy's, but her ever persistent hair still turned up at the ends, giving her large curls which hung around her face. The overall effect was quite pleasing, she thought, rather than having lots of long, dead straight hair hanging limply down.

During her last visit to Hogsmeade, she had found a black dress which she had fallen absolutely in love with. Floorlength, it was a tight fit down to her knees where the fabric let out slightly, pooling to the ground with a slight train. It had thick sleeves over her shoulders and a classic neckline, giving the dress an elegant feel without looking too old, in Hermione's mind.

Ginny, who found it terribly amusing that Hermione could help defeat the Darkest wizard of their time but couldn't use eyeliner to save her life, had visited whilst Hermione's hair was smoothing out to apply her makeup. She had worked her own magic to create a smokey eye with a light pink lip. The look had been covered with a Beautification Charm, one of the few spells Hermione could never correctly perform purely from a lack of desire to do so, ensuring the makeup wouldn't smudge throughout the evening.

Just as Hermione smoothed down her dress there was a knock against the wall of her front room. She had instructed Theo to come straight up and wait in the living room if she wasn't ready. She smiled at her appearance and went to greet her date, trying not to topple over in the teetering heels Ginny had picked out for her.

"You clean up well," Theo said, holding out a large box to her. He creaked the hinges open to reveal a delicate necklace. It was simple and elegant, a carefully designed silver choker. Hermione refused to think of the price of something so lovely.

"You didn't need to buy me a necklace," Hermione frowned but she found the piece truly astonishing.

"I buy all my friends the same necklace. Drake is too shy to wear his in public but I know he loves it." She laughed as he stepped behind her to clip it into place, smoothing out each segment until it lay in perfect harmony with her dress. "Besides, you agreed to sit with my friends, so getting you something nice is the least I could do."

Hermione _had_ agreed to sit with Theo's friends after Ginny had decided to sit with the other girls from her own year who had ended up without dates for the night, but she didn't mind.

Since beginning their Potions assignment, Hermione had found that she and Draco had plenty to talk about that was related to academia. They shared similar interests around Potions, but also the same fascination with Ancient Runes and Arithmancy that Hermione had coveted since her third year. She was certain that, should they be brought into conversation related to things outside the scholastic sphere, they would still have plenty to talk about.

The only person she could see herself having any bother with was Pansy who had made no offer of piece, nor accepted any proverbial olive branch held out to her by other students. As Pansy would be on Draco's arm for the evening, Hermione was certain there would be some level of tension at the table, particularly when she and Theo arrived.

"You ready?" Theo asked, holding his arm out to her. Hermione nodded and accepted the offer of balance, appreciating his slow pace as they made their way to the Great Hall. "How did Weasley take the news that I was going to be your date tonight?"

"Jumping into the deep end headfirst, I see," Hermione said. She had been planning on avoiding the topic of her fiancé for the evening. It was still a sore spot and his reaction had been exactly has she had predicted. "Not so well. But I told him when we were in Hogsmeade together and in the middle of a busy street, so he couldn't exactly lose his temper. Admittedly, he did storm off and it took him a week and a half to respond to my owl, but I like to pretend that his reply just got lost along the way."

Theo laughed, helping her through the throng of students. A few had started to whisper at the sight of the very publicly engaged Head Girl on the arm of a Slytherin. Hermione lifted her chin and pushed through the crowds, ignoring their excited whispers. A few were encouraging, complimenting her appearance or wishing her an enjoyable evening, but most were just confused.

"Miss Granger, Mr Nott, there you are," Professor McGonagall appeared in front of the pair looking flustered. "You two along with Mr Boot and his partner will open up the dance, much like the champions did at the Yule Ball. Students are beginning to file in and take their places so on my signal, I want you to enter."

She hurried off again, instructing students to file into the Great Hall in an orderly manner. Terry and his date, Pavarti Patil, turned up. Both looked somewhat disgruntled at their choice of partner though they still looked very smart. Terry had opted for a sleek black suit, whilst Pavarti looked very pretty in a periwinkle blue dress.

"He was hoping Corner would said yes," Theo leaned to say in Hermione's ear and she tried to stifle her laughter. McGonagall waved from the side of the hall and they both straightened up as the music began inside. Theo led the way into the hall, down a corridor of students who clapped appreciatively. Hermione's breath was taken away by the inside of the Great Hall.

Whilst at the Yule Ball, everything had been glittering blue and white, it was now filled with rich autumn colours. Hundreds of pumpkins floated in the air, decorative cobwebs curled up every possible pillar. Each table was carefully decorated with an amazing centrepiece of candles and at the centre of each lay a different ornate mask, a long observed tradition of All Hallows' Eve.

"Looks good, doesn't it?" Theo said as he grinned at the crowds of people.

"Amazing," Hermione breathed, coming to a halt in the middle of an organised dance floor. Hermione had the feeling some sort of charm had been placed on the room to double its size, or perhaps the absence of the usual long tables made the room seem larger. Theo's hand slid to her waist, and she placed one hand on his shoulder, the other in his own.

The music struck up, an orchestra of self-playing instruments charmed by Professor Flitwick, echoing a slow waltz throughout the room. Feeling overwhelmingly self-conscious, Hermione allowed Theo to take the lead and spin her around the floor. She had never been a very good dancer, having thought to be a trivial and useless activity, so she was thankful to have a partner who appeared to have a solid knowledge in classic styles. They were certainly outshining Terry and Pavarti who were making stunted movements in a circle as she and Theo danced around them.

Slowly, other couples began to join the floor, encouraged by Neville and Luna's rather audacious example of dancing which featured a lot of hopping on the spot, paired with a small amount of traditional Irish folk dancing. Hermione's feet started to ache and she felt that she had played her part well, getting other students involved and excited for the evening.

"Want a drink?" Theo asked, sensing her slowing pace as they continued to twirl. When she nodded, he brought them to an abrupt stop and looked around the room for his friends. Draco and Pansy were nowhere to be seen, but Blaise and Daphne were engaged in conversation. "Go sit with Blaise and his girl. I'll bring your drink over."

Somewhat hesitantly, Hermione made her way to the two Slytherins. She felt her confidence drop when Daphne came into full view. The Slytherin girl had always been one of the most attractive people in the school, with full, delicate blonde curls that tumbled to her waist and bright blue eyes. With a pale complexion, her naturally pink lips always stood out in a perfect pout, and though she normally dressed sensibly for her lessons, hair tied back in a neat ponytail and a pair of still-flattering glasses perched on her nose, she still radiated natural beauty.

Tonight, with the opportunity to put extra effort in, she looked closer to a Veela than just a simple witch. Her dress was an elegant silver, the material seeming to pool over her like water rather than any fabric Hermione knew, and it fit her body snugly to accentuate any feature that may normally be lost beneath their unflattering school uniforms. It was strapless and floorlength and so beautiful that Hermione thought her dress to be horribly ugly in comparison. The blonde witch had worked magic on her hair so it fell in its usual luxurious curls, though this time with more volume and precision, ensuring there was not a hair out of place. Her face had been carefully painted with dark pink lips and natural looking eyes which stared at Hermione through thick lashes as she approached.

"You look stunning, Hermione," Daphne said upon her arrival, gesturing for her to sit down. "Where is Theo?"

Caught off guard by the compliment, Hermione took her time to reply. "Getting us all drinks," she said once her composure had returned. "You two look lovely."

Daphne's cheeks flushed a delicate pink and Hermione was once again struck by how flawless she looked. "How are you and Draco going with your Potions assignment?"

"Quite well," Hermione nodded, pleased with how well they had been progressing. "He's a lot smarter than I gave him credit for," she admitted and Daphne offered a dainty laugh.

"Drake's full of surprises like that," she said, Blaise nodding in agreement. "You're lucky, Hermione. When he gets passionate about something, he'll work tirelessly to achieve its end. I'm sure you two will end up with the best grade in the class."

"But that's not unusual for you, I guess," Blaise added, his first words to Hermione for the evening. They were not laced with any aggression, but instead accompanied by a brief smile.

"All getting along well, I see," Theo said, returning with four Butterbeers balanced precariously in his hands. He handed Blaise and Daphne their drinks, sitting beside Hermione and slinging an arm casually over the back of her chair.

"We were just talking about our Potions assignment," Hermione supplied and Theo rolled his eyes.

"The one night Hogwarts actually encourages us to party and you all talk about homework," he said. "Typical."

"What do you propose we talk about?" Hermione asked, wrapping her hands around her Butterbeer. Her engagement ring twinkled in the candlelight.

"The after party," Theo grinned and Hermione saw Daphne roll his eyes.

"He's obsessed with making the most of having the day off classes tomorrow," Daphne explained. "And he figures he has the perfect place to continue the night."

"The Room of Requirement," Theo clapped his hands together, looking like a five year old with his first broom.

"It was destroyed," Hermione frowned, unwilling to attend anything that may compromise her position as Head Girl. She remembered Ginny's frustration at being unable to get in there when Harry had stayed for the night.

"Only partially," Draco's cool voice made her jump slightly in her seat and she heard the high pitched laughter of Pansy as the couple arrived. Perhaps chivalry wasn't quite dead, Hermione thought as Draco helped his date into her chair.

Pansy had taken advantage of the chance to dress up, making herself look very pretty in a lilac coloured dress with a long train. The fabric had been cinched in tightly at the waist, emphasising a perfect hourglass figure and pushing up her already ample bust. A single teardrop diamond hung directly between her cleavage, the position making Hermione feel awkward just to admire the jewel. Her hair had been piled atop her head in a complex updo and she had dark makeup on around her eyes, making her eyes seem brighter beneath the thick layers of grey and black.

Theo rolled his eyes at his best mate's date. "If you're really precise, and I mean _really_ precise, then you can get in."

"And you'll get everything you ask for," Draco added, sitting himself down on Hermione's other side.

The three boys had all opted for similar outfits, expensive looking tailor made suits with black bowties, each choosing to match their pocket square to the exact shade of their date's dress. She noticed Draco's cufflinks shimmering in the light, looking like perfect emeralds. She automatically assumed they were the real stone and not some cheap imitation. Theo had opted for more modest, plain silver cufflinks, though Hermione was certain they were probably made from some rare metal only found in the remotest regions of Siberia.

"And it's not even breaking the rules, Granger," Draco continued, "seeing as, technically speaking, the Room of Requirement is an anomaly and isn't even on school grounds. So we can do all the drinking we want and still remain completely free of guilt when we go back to our dormitories."

"_If_ we can make it that far," Blaise corrected and Theo laughed. Daphne rolled her eyes.

"Just come for an hour, Hermione. Please? I'll be there, just to keep an eye on this one," she nudged Blaise with her elbow, "but I'll probably turn in early."

"Yes, come on, Granger. Let your bushy hair down for once," Pansy said, earning a scowl from Theo and a sigh from Draco.

"And you're _sure_ we won't be breaking any rules?" Hermione clarified, ignoring Pansy's dig at her.

"Promise," Theo said. "Besides, the Head Boy has already signed his name up for it. I reckon he's just itching to get Corner drunk off his ass and make a move."

There was a murmur of agreement from the males at the table, comments about how reluctant he looked to be attending the Ball with Pavarti on his arm.

"If you're all finished gossiping," Daphne interrupted them, "I'm absolutely starving. Blaise, could you get us some more drinks, please?"

Theo mimed a whip cracking as Draco supplied the sound effects when their friend got up and kissed Daphne's lips quickly, pushing through the crowds to get to the bar. Hermione hadn't had a clue that two of her tablemates were together, and she wondered if the same was true about Draco and Pansy. They all turned down to their menus, beginning to order in a similar way as the Yule Ball.

When her plate of pork chops appeared, Blaise returned with their drinks and they all focused on their food for a while before Daphne decided to break the silence.

"Hermione was telling us about your Potions assignment before, Draco," she said, looking up from her bowl of soup. "She didn't get a chance to mention what you were working on before Theo decided to interrupt, however."

Hermione looked to her Potions partner to explain. "It's a potion to heal scars which are otherwise unaffected by the current medicines we have," Draco said, looking up from his meal.

"I didn't realise there were scars like that," Pansy commented and Hermione bit her tongue to stop a snide remark from spilling out.

"You don't realise a lot of things," Theo supplied and everyone else laughed. Pansy even included a guilty giggle. "Isn't that going to be tough?"

"Well, yes," Hermione began. "But we're basing a lot of our work on the very first healing potions, and by starting with such an ancient base, we're able to work with the barest foundations of the potion. In turn, this allows us to build on it with our own discoveries, figuring out precisely what will work and what won't."

Draco continued: "And we're also combining our studies of the potions with an analysis of different types of Dark magic to figure out what ingredients will cure the largest number of injuries."

"I'm a little bit embarrassed to talk about what potion Pavarti and I are working on after that," Daphne admitted and finished her soup. "But it's something that does the opposite of Sleekeazy's."

The males laughed but Pansy looked genuinely interested.

"Pavarti was complaining about how she can never curl her hair properly and she's not really the best at Potions, so we decided that something cosmetic, and therefore quite straightforward, would be best," Daphne finished, cheeks still pink from the boys' laughter.

"If you need a test subject, I'll be willing," Pansy said. "I can never get my hair curly. At least you don't have to suffer that, Granger."

Hermione grinned over her Butterbeer. "If I could give you some of my curls, Parkinson, I'd hand them straight over."

"I wouldn't have said that if I were you," Blaise said. "She's probably going to go back to her dormitory and start sharpening her scalping knife."

Another round of laughter from the table before Hermione politely excused herself. She had promised Ginny she would find her at some point and she wanted to do so before the dancing resumed at it became impossible to cross the floor.

She bumped into Luna along the way, stopping for a brief conversation and trying not to stare at the absurd flower perched precariously on the Ravenclaw's head. Luna assured her it was a flower that pleased the ghosts and had to be worn for protection on Halloween, but Hermione wasn't sure how a plant could frighten off malevolent spirits.

Ginny's table was giggling when Hermione arrived, pulling an empty chair over from the gathering next to it.

"How's your date?" Ginny asked. She had warmed up to Theo after they were partnered in Potions, finding him to be just as charming and witty as Hermione had originally described him to be. For the evening, she had dressed in a simple white dress which grazed the floor and Hermione thought she looked like a goddess with her bright hair and slender frame. The whole outfit had been accented with gold jewelry, bringing it all together well.

"Surprisingly good," Hermione smiled. She had given up saying that Theo wasn't her date after the eleventh time Ginny had called him that. "They're all very…civil."

"Even Parkinson?"

"Pansy is tolerable, though I think calling her civil would be stretching it. But she was really the only one I expected to have any difficulties with." Hermione leaned in a bit closer. "Are you going to the after-party?"

Ginny laughed loudly, rippling her long red hair which she had curled for the evening. "_Everyone_ is going to the after-party. Did Theo only just tell you about it?"

"I supposed he assumed I would rat him out to the Headmistress," Hermione frowned and, if it hadn't been her date for the night planning the event, she probably would have alerted one of the teachers to the occasion. But as it was, she wanted to celebrate. After all, what didn't she have to celebrate? It was her last year of school, the war was over, and she was happily engaged to the boy she had wanted on and off since she was twelve.

"What are you going to wear?" Ginny asked. "I'll get stains on this dress if I go to any sort of party in it and Mum would kill me."

"Seeing as I just found out about it a few minutes ago, I haven't thought that far ahead. You can come back to my dorm after the ball and we can get ready together, if you want," Hermione offered and Ginny enthusiastically agreed. "I should probably get back to my table, but I'll see you at eleven."

The dance floor had begun to fill up, making it harder for Hermione to find her way back to the table. When she reached it, Blaise was the only occupant, watching other students make fools of themselves to The Weird Sisters.

"Where is everyone?" she asked, raising her voice to be heard over the din of the music.

"Pansy and Daphne wanted to dance and I was the first to say no, so your date and Drake got dragged off with them instead," Blaise grinned. "I imagine they'd be right at the middle at the moment. This is Daph's favourite."

Hermione scrunched up her nose, confused as to how this racket could be distinguishable as a song, but she said nothing.

"You seem to have my housemates in quite a spell, Granger," Blaise continued, shifting a few chairs over so it was easier to be heard over the music. "You've even won Draco over, and that's no easy feat."

"I'm not sure I follow," she said, fiddling with her an empty glass on the table.

"Theo never stops talking about you," Blaise said. "And Drake is quite a fan of your work, too, apparently. I just want to congratulate you on winning over two of the wankiest wizards in England."

Hermione chuckled at his phrasing. "Theo's never been anything but polite to me, and Draco…he's changed. He isn't a kid anymore. I'll admit, I didn't think I could even stand to be around him at the beginning of the year, but he's working hard on this Potions assignment and him being so dedicated to such a good cause makes me think he isn't a total arse."

"I'm sure he'd appreciate that," it was Blaise's turn to laugh. "But he's still a bit of an arse."

"Oh, definitely," she nodded and the mood around them lifted.

"Speak of the Devil," Blaise said as a slightly dishevelled Draco broke through the edge of the dancing students, brushing his suit down and joining them at the table.

"Your girlfriend is an absolute nutter," he said to Blaise, drinking deeply from his water goblet. "I think she's desperate for you to dance with her."

Blaise groaned but agreed to relieve Draco as one of Daphne's backup dancers, pushing his way to the middle of the group. Hermione could almost feel the disdain pouring off him as he searched for his girlfriend.

"How long have they been together?" Hermione asked once Blaise was away.

"Ages," Draco said, drinking again from his magically refilled goblet and pushing his hair back into its neat place. "Since we were kids. Their parents signed some archaic marriage contract, betrothing them to each other before they could even speak. They didn't seem to care that it was all a business deal, though. Ted and I think they'd have ended up together either way."

"And you and Pansy?" she asked, watching as the dancing students all seemed to move as one, jumping to the beat in the same breath.

"Pans and I aren't together," Draco said, shaking his head slowly. "We used to be, back in sixth year, but now we're just friends. But we're always around each other so I suppose it's only natural that people think we're dating."

Hermione nodded, all too aware how scrutinising the public could be of relationships. She remember having to constantly deny rumours that she was in a relationship with Harry back in their fourth year, desperately trying to explain to a furious Ron that she and his best friend weren't secretly dating. And then there had been the event when they had been searching for horcruxes, how her now-fiancé had assumed that she and Harry were carrying on an affair behind his back.

"Congratulations, but the way," Draco said, pointing at her left hand. "I haven't said it yet."

"Well, we haven't spoken much before tonight," Hermione said. "But thanks." Out of habit, she reached over and started to twist the ring around on her finger.

"Right, well," Draco said, looking around uncomfortably as though he had just realised how odd the situation was. "I'm going to go and get another drink. Would you like one?"

"Thanks," Hermione nodded and he left her alone at the table. She savoured her moment alone, still twisting her engagement ring. It felt so strange to be at a celebration without Ron. For all the functions that had been held at the end of the war, all the ceremonies and public appearances they had attended, Hermione had always been on his arm. In their most recent appearances before she went back to school, attention had turned away from the War and to the happier topic of their impending wedding. She smiled to herself, thinking of the approaching ceremony when she would finally be in the position she had secretly been wanting for years.

But her smile faded when she remembered their fight the last time they had seen each other, how he had stormed away from her in the middle of Hogsmeade and apparated away. The shortness of his letter when he had finally responded. It was all well and good to joke about it with Theo, but she regretted how she had acted, how she hadn't given Ron a choice in the matter of her attending the ball with the Slytherin. Her heart hurt at thinking she had offended her fiancé, because all she had done in the past few months of their relationship was try and make him happy. He had been through so much that happiness was all he deserved, and she had just acted like a petulant child.

"Knut for your thoughts?" Draco asked, returning with two foaming Butterbeers. He stopped abruptly, staring at her face. "I can go if you want."

To her shock, Hermione realised that she had tears in her eyes, a few sliding down her cheeks. "Oh, no. It's alright," she shook her head to clear away her thoughts, quickly wiping at the salt water with the back of her hand. She made a note to thank Ginny for her clever charm when they met at the end of the night. "It's nothing."

Hesitantly, Draco resumed his seat and passed her drink over. "Are you coming to the after party?" he asked, deciding it to be a safe topic.

Hermione nodded, sipping from her bottle, letting the odd warmth of the drink shoot through her bones and calm her down. "I think so. Perhaps Parkinson is right and I should let my hair down."

"Pans is never right," Draco joked, his face adopting its usual smirk rather than the rare smile Hermione had only seen a handful of times. "So why did you come back to Hogwarts? You could have gotten any job you wanted, Granger. Why come back to this place?"

"I think I needed to get away from it all, after last year," Hermione said. "And I didn't really have a home to go back to, either. I suppose coming back to Hogwarts allows me twelve months to think about it and figure out what I'll do with my life."

"Pop out a lot of ginger kids, at a guess," her companion said, looking surprised for a fleeting moment when she laughed at his comment. He had been expecting an outburst of anger, not such a pleasant response.

"That'd please his mother, but I have other plans," Hermione said, feeling light and soft from the number of Butterbeers she had consumed.

"And what does our Head Girl want to do with her life?" Draco asked, watching as Hermione's face grew slightly pinker, her eyes glossier.

"Wizarding law, maybe," she nodded quickly. "I want to help house elves. Or be a Healer. I don't really know. I thought I did, but then the War came and I thought that doing what I wanted seemed to be so silly when there are so many things in the world that _need_ to be fixed, so why should I just get what I want whilst others are suffering. So I thought that I should do something more _meaningful_." She swallowed the last of her drink, the colour spreading to the tops of her cheekbones.

"What did you want to do before the War?" Draco inquired, moving closer as The Weird Sisters played their final song for the night, easily their loudest yet.

"I wanted to own a bookshop," she said after a moment, keeping her eyes on the floor. "It's silly, really. But I wanted to work with really old books and get more people to read, you know? Like that Potions book I have in my room, the one with the first healing potions _ever_ recorded. More people should know about stuff like that. And I wanted to have a second-hand bookshop in Diagon Alley but it's not really important anymore."

Draco's brows knitted together, his tongue feeling looser and his mind pleasantly fuzzy from his Butterbeers. He and Theo had also smuggled in a flask of Firewhiskey, the two of them making various trips to the bathroom throughout the night to take gulps of the spirit. "Granger, you should do what you want. You shouldn't take your freedom for granted."

"What?" Hermione's eyes looked heavy and Draco passed a water goblet to her, instructing her to drink before she fell asleep in the middle of the Samhain Ball.

"If there's one thing I've learnt in the past two years, it's that you have to do what you want to do, not what others want," he explained, tracing the rim of his Butterbeer bottle with his finger.

"I suppose you're right, Healer Malfoy," Hermione said, finishing a second goblet of water. She seemed to wake up almost instantly. "Oh, it's nearly eleven. I should start preparing people to leave. But I guess the party is just getting started for most of them, right?"

"It's only seventh years at our after-party," Draco said, getting to his feet as he caught sight of the rest of their tablemates. The Weird Sisters had gone off stage to raucous applause from their audience, and all the students dancing were returning to their tables looking sweaty and sore. "Didn't want to get anyone underage too drunk."

Students were starting to file out of the Great Hall when Theo reached Hermione's side, dropping his arm over her shoulders. "I'll walk you back to your dorm and wait for you to get ready for the after-party," he said and she let him lead the way to the front door of the hall where Ginny was waiting. She shrugged her way out of Theo's embrace to stand on her toes and attract the attention of the redhead before they were lost completely in the crowd.

"Theo's walking us back to my dorm," she explained when Ginny found them.

"You'll need my help getting into the party, anyway," he said, letting Hermione lead the way. She paused to lean against a wall and take off her heels, relishing the cool stones underfoot. "It doesn't technically start until midnight, but you two can get early entry with me and Drake, I suppose."

"How generous," Hermione rolled her eyes, tucking her shoes under her arm and tickling the tentacle on the painting until it became a doorknob. "You can wait in the living room while we get ready."

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><p><strong>AN: I honestly did not think I'd be getting another chapter out so quickly, but I haven't had much else to do. The weather here is ridiculous and leaving the house for even a minute would leave me soaked to the bone, so I've been happily tucked away inside. We've had on and off blackouts, too, and lost internet a few times, so this chapter was finished last night but I had no way of uploading it for you all.**

**Let me know what you think in a review!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: This chapter took me a while to write, and the next few probably will, too. I have a lot of things coming up in my personal life and I'm also working on my own original pieces of fiction, so there won't be daily updating as there has been in the past week or so.**

**Either way, I hope you enjoy this chapter, and remember to let me know what you think in a review!**

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><p><em><strong>The Room of Requirement<strong>_

_**11:40PM**_

_**Thursday, October 31**__**st**__**, 1998**_

Hermione wondered exactly how specific Draco and Theo had been when they had walked past the Room of Requirement three times, because the location of their after-party looked impeccable.

At first glance, it looked like an upmarket lounge, the kind Hermione had imagined seeing in New York City, with sleek furnishings and expensive accents. There were high tables for groups to stand around and small booths for more intimate conversations, each topped with a long list of drinks. A long bar covered one whole wall, and she quickly learned that you only had to speak the name of what you wanted and it would appear before you, flawlessly made by an invisible bartender. As the bar moved further into the room, she could make out a dance floor, much larger and smoother than the one in the Great Hall. Whilst quiet music played at the entrance of the room, she could feel the floor vibrating and she assumed it could only be because of the heavy bass around the dance floor.

"Want a drink?" Theo asked, leading Hermione to the bar as Ginny explored the room. "Don't wander off, Red," he called after her. "You'll get lost before the party has even started, and definitely not in the good way."

"Stop trying to get Hermione drunk, Teddy," Daphne had arrived, her hand linked with Blaise's. She still looked elegant, though her appearance was now much more suited to a club. She had changed into a short black dress and although the neckline was modest, Hermione could see Blaise's eyes traveling up his girlfriend's exposed leg. Her makeup was darker, too, much more suited to a nightclub with a dark red lip and more black around her eyes. "She wanted a quiet night, not a forgotten one."

"One drink won't hurt," Teddy argued, quickly ordering himself a large Firewhiskey and a Flaming Warbeck for Hermione, though she had no idea what sort of drink it was. He added the order for a second one with the reappearance of Ginny, who accepted the drink gratefully.

As it happened, a Flaming Warbeck was bright red and had magical flames dancing on the surface. It tasted sweet, similar to strawberry Sugar Quills, and Hermione was pleased with the choice. She, Daphne and Ginny gathered around one of the tall tables as Theo and Blaise greeted Draco at the door. It was almost time for other students to be let in and the last of the trio of Slytherins had arrived to put their finishing touches on the party venue.

"So how did he do it?" Daphne asked, sipping at her drink, a bright drink concoction she had called a Glittering Griffin. When Hermione looked clueless, the blonde tapped the Gryffindor's engagement ring.

"Oh, that," Hermione laughed, twisting at the piece of jewellery. "It wasn't anything fancy. We just went on a walk in his parents' garden one night after dinner and he handed me the box."

"My brother isn't exactly known for his romanticism," Ginny said, polishing off her drink. She ignored Hermione's quick glance when she ordered a second for herself.

"I keep wondering when Blaise is going to ask," Daphne said.

"Aren't you two already engaged?" Hermione asked.

"Technically and legally, yes. But I still want a romantic proposal," the blonde laughed. "His mother has the most stunning set of engagement rings, and I imagine he'll pick one out for me. They're just flawless. I guess I was lucky with my parents' choice. They told me when I was twelve, but I was already head over heels for him at that point. We'd been friends for ages but it was when I heard him humming my favourite Weird Sisters song that I knew he was the one I wanted to marry."

"I had a similar feeling about Harry, but that was after he had saved me from a Basilisk in my first year," Ginny joked.

Hermione laughed along with Daphne and Ginny, ignoring the feeling which niggled at the back of her mind. She knew she loved Ron with all her heart, but she hadn't experienced that feeling yet. Perhaps it was because they had known each other for so long, that they knew everything about one another that it was just a feeling she would have to go without in her life.

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><p>Draco sat in a sleek leather armchair, tumbler of Firewhiskey in one hand as he watched his party progress. There was a steady stream of awe from the majority of the guests, none of them ever having been to a party thrown by a Malfoy. If there was one thing about his family, it was that they never did anything half-heartedly, and throwing illicit parties at Hogwarts was no exception.<p>

"Good turnout," Blaise joined Draco with his own drink in hand, propping his feet up on the glass table between them.

"Always is," Draco said, finishing his drink and promptly ordering another. As his tumbler refilled, he looked around the room at the guests. Most of the males had simply shed their suit jackets and rolled up their sleeves, whilst the females had undergone more drastic changes. As much as the Samhain Ball had been about elegance, Draco's party appeared to be about letting loose and lifting their hemlines. A few teetered around in impractical high heels, garnering attention from most of the males in the room.

"See anything you like?" Blaise asked, looking over Draco's shoulder to where he knew Daphne was, deep in conversation with Weasley and Granger.

"She isn't going anywhere, Blaise," Draco said, smirking at friend. "And no, nothing of interest. It just looks like a competition to see who can have the shortest skirt."

"I thought you liked that," the Italian wizard said, bringing his gaze back to his best friend. Back in their fourth or fifth year, perhaps, Draco would have liked the expanse of leg on display tonight. But now, at eighteen, he wasn't as distracted by such things. He felt old. "What about Granger?"

"What about Granger, Blaise?" Draco asked, irritated. He had finished his second drink and his eyes were drawn to the increasingly drunk state of some of his classmates. A few of the males were beginning to disrobe, leaving shirts strewn about, and the girls of his year had adopted shrill, loud giggles at anything their male partners would say. "She's engaged and I'm not interested."

"Sure, mate. Whatever you say. But my girlfriend has just freed up and the girl you're not interested in is about to leave," Blaise abandoned his glass on the table, standing up to clap Draco on the shoulder. "Have fun. I have a girl to woo."

Draco rolled his eyes at his lovestruck friend as Blaise wandered over to his witch. It certainly looked as though Granger was getting ready to leave, looking around for someone as she headed to the front of the room. Weasley had dissolved into the crowds heading for the dance floor and the Head Girl looked lost without her. Having nothing else to do, Draco reached her in a few short strides.

"Leaving so early, Granger?" he asked, leaning in front of her and giving the Gryffindor a quick sweep with his eyes before she had registered his presence. She was in a dress he recognised from one of her many public appearances that had been smeared all over The Daily Prophet, short and dark blue with a high neckline to maintain some modesty. Rather than having bare legs and trying to show off as much as most other girls in the room, she was in black stockings and a pair of low black heels. Her hair maintained the volume it had at the ball and Draco found himself cursing Blaise as he appreciated the view.

She jumped at his sudden appearance, pressing a hand against her chest. "You scared me," she said and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "I have a lot of homework to do tomorrow."

"No you don't," he said, moving to block her exit as she made to leave again. "We both know you're fully caught up on your work and the only assignment left is our Potions one, which we already have plans to work on and are twice as far along as any other pair."

She scowled and Draco's nose ached for a brief moment, remembering the look on her face before he had punched her in their third year. "Fine," she folded her arms across her chest. "But everyone here is acting completely ridiculous."

He turned his head to look at her claim and saw she was right. Most of their fellow students were making fools of themselves. A large group had dominated the dance floor, falling over each other in an attempt to move to the music, a mixture of Muggle and Magical sounds. Even though the party had only been going for less than an hour, two Hufflepuffs were already passed out, and other students looked well on their way.

"I won't deny that they look ridiculous," he said, turning back to her and continuing to block the exit, "but you won't really make the most of the night if you go back now."

She paused and looked up at him, still a few inches below his six feet in her heels. "One drink, and if I get puked on then I'm going to break your nose again."

Draco smirked. "There's the same old Granger," he said and led her back to his table, helping her into a chair and picking up a menu. "How does a Strawberry Opaleye sound? Other than revoltingly feminine."

"Fine, just hurry up and give it to me so I can go back to my room," she said, taking the drink from the table and taking a small slip. Draco wished he could look away when her tongue darted out to catch a stray drop of the pink drink. "Your invisible bartender may be up to something with this drink," she admitted, taking another gulp.

"Glad you like it," he said and ordered himself another Firewhiskey, feeling pleasantly buzzed from what he had already consumed. "Maybe it'll convince you to let loose a little."

"Not likely," she rolled her eyes, but her cheeks had taken on a light blush which Draco found highly charming. He shook his head slightly, trying to rid it of any impure thoughts about the Gryffindor, but the Firewhiskey was working like a Sticking Charm in his mind. "Why aren't you enjoying yourself like the rest of our classmates?"

Draco lifted his shoulders in an elegant shrug, crinkling his dark green shirt. "I find my enjoyment in more subtle activities. A good drink, mainly."

"Healthy," she said, her drink already half finished. Again, his eyes were transfixed as she caught another drop on the tip of her tongue. He forced himself to think of her fiancé and, when the thought of the redheaded git didn't work, he replaced the image with Weasley in his knickers. The thought alone was enough to make him feel a bit ill and successfully distracted him from the witch in front of him.

Sure, she was hot when she put a bit of effort in. A warm-blooded wizard would either have to be blind or as gay as Terry Boot not to realise that. But there was something else, something he had noticed during their study sessions when her face was wiped clear of any makeup. It was a quiet attractiveness, a quality he had overlooked in his younger years when his mind had been clouded by blood prejudice and a superiority complex. It was in the natural curl of her hair and her wide eyes. It seemed that, even after the war, after all that she had seen and done, Hermione Granger still had a look of innocence about her, and the thought enchanted him.

"Knut for your thoughts?" she repeated his phrase from earlier in the evening and for a moment he wondered how she would react if he told her what he was really thinking.

"Just wondering if you'd like another drink seeing as you've practically inhaled that one," he smoothed over his awkward silence quickly, gulping back the last of his own beverage. It left a sweet burn down the back of his throat and he felt his face warm slightly.

"One more," she said, nibbling on her lip. Her eyes were bright and the pink which had begun to creep across her cheekbones earlier was more prominent now, even in the dark lighting of the room. "But I have to be at least mildly coherent tomorrow so we can work on our assignment."

He waved away her concerns and ordered their drinks, neglecting to mention the level of alcohol in a Strawberry Opaleye. "You'll thank me when you wake up tomorrow and realise that you had a good time tonight rather than turning in at midnight."

"Show me a good time and I might give you some credit," she said. He swallowed, trying to ignore the other implications behind her words.

For the second time that evening, Draco Malfoy cursed Blaise Zabini.

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><p><em><strong>Hermione's Quarters<strong>_

_**10:00AM**_

_**Friday, November 1**__**st**__**, 1998**_

The only time Hermione Granger had ever felt this ill was when she had been struck by a particularly nasty virus at the age of eleven. Her head had hammered, her stomach had done flips, and any movement sent her brain spinning around the room. She had seen Ron and Harry with similar ailments since the war had ended, after they had become a bit too enthusiastic at the bar at a public appearance. There had been a particular morning when she had nursed Ron through one of his worst hangovers, trying to keep him from vomiting on the duvet whilst she brewed a Hangover Cure.

Her Muggle alarm clock screamed at her from the bedside table. The wind outside was a personal assault against her senses. She forced herself to move and flip the off button on her clock, effectively silencing the shrill pitch. But she had opened her eyes and was on the receiving end of a horrifically bright light. Her mind swirled through hazy memories of the night before as she forced herself from her warm bed. The first positive she found was that there was no one else in her room, so she was free to wallow in the privacy of her hangover and not try to recall memories of what she may have done to jeopardise her engagement.

She forced the tap to the highest temperature possible, standing under the stream, unmoving, for ten minutes before her head felt clear enough for her to begin scrubbing at her skin. She had slept with her makeup on and thick streams of black lined her face as she turned it to the torrent. Her hair returned to its normal curls as she carefully shampooed it and brushed the knots out. The hot water calmed the raging headache she had been fighting but she felt her stomach would not be entirely settled until she had consumed a cup of tea and a large pitcher of ice cold water.

Wrapped in a fluffy towel with her hair left dripping down her back, the cooling water tickling her spine, Hermione set about preparing herself a cup of tea in her kitchenette. She had organised to meet her Potions partner at half eleven and that they would take lunch in her quarters, enabling them to work straight through until dinner and she wanted to at least be somewhat coherent and presentable.

Whilst her tea brewed in the kitchen, she dressed against the cold autumn weather that had invaded the castle. An old jumper that was two sizes too large and a pair of jeans blocked out most of the cool and she put her still wet hair up in a bun, trying to ignore how messy it would be when she released it from the confining hair tie. With herself clothed in some of her most comfortable garments and a cup of tea by her side, she almost felt well enough to face the day.

The sound of footsteps climbing up the stairs to her dormitory made Hermione sit a little straighter, trying to smooth over her face and hope she didn't look too exhausted.

"I brought you something, Granger," Draco said when he arrived, holding out a small vial with a bright green liquid inside. "Thought you might need it after how you were tipping back those Opaleyes last night."

Her head gave another kick as she remembered the strawberry flavoured drinks and took in the tell-tale shade of a Hangover Cure. After he had assured it wasn't laced with any malicious poison, claiming he would have no feasible way of finishing their Potions assignment if she was taken ill or dropped dead, she accepted it gratefully. It wasn't something she knew how to make off the top of her head, having only prepared it for Ron once in her life.

Its effects were almost instantaneous. Her headache lifted and her nausea was reduced to a small flip in her gut every now and then, something her companion assured her would wear off within the next hour or so. She envied how together he looked, hair neatly in place as usual, in a sleek black suit which probably cost a small fortune. Beside him, with tangled hair and a second-hand sweater, she felt a mess.

"First hangover?" he asked, sitting with his legs beneath him on the floor as he spread out his books. They had taken to camping out on her living room floor for their study sessions rather than trying to share the small table.

"That obvious?" she said as she joined him on the floor, quashing the taste of her Hangover Cure with the last of her tea. She flicked her wand to get a pot of tea brewing for the pair of them to share until lunch.

Draco smirked at her again as he took out an elaborate quill and pot of ink. "You looked like you were struggling," he moved to lean against an armchair, propping a textbook open on his knees. "Surprised you and Potter haven't celebrated with a few glasses of Firewhiskey since the end of The War."

"Getting drunk is more Harry and Ron's idea of a good time," she said, getting to her feet to pour their tea.

"Figures," he said with thin lips and there was something about his tone which prompted her not to continue the conversation.

They worked until close to one o'clock when her stomach started to protest loudly at its lack of food. She ignored Draco's snigger and got to fixing them some sandwiches and a pitcher of pumpkin juice. Thankful for the chance to rest her eyes, she insisted they left their books on the floor and ate at the small dining table. Her stomach and head had settled but her eyes refused to focus, and going by Draco's glazed over grey eyes, she assumed their night of partying was having a similar effect on him.

"Tell me the truth," she began once they had both been revived by her food. "How bad was I last night?"

She saw his grin over the top of his goblet, the same smile which seemed to distil the age in his eyes. "You weren't as bad as you probably think you were. Most people were too drunk to notice or doing their own stupid things. Ted and I were the only ones around you."

A few hazy memories began to resurface. Of her laughing in a way akin to a fourteen year old girl at something Draco had said. Slumping in her chair and leaning against Theo. Him tugging on her hair to keep her awake. "Did I say anything?"

"You said a lot of things," he paused to finish a sandwich but the look on her face prompted him to continue. "It was mainly just a lot of idiotic jokes, Granger, don't worry. There was some incoherent babble about how pretty Greengrass is and apparently you like my eyes," he said, the smoky grey eyes in question sparkling, bright.

Hermione felt her cheeks turn bright red. "Do I even want to know how I managed to get back here without Filch seeing me?"

"Lucky for you, Granger, some of us know how to hold our liquor and when to stop ordering their drinks," Draco said and finished his pumpkin juice. "Don't worry, Daphne made certain I didn't do anything unsavoury when I helped you back here. Slytherin's honour."

"Because that means a lot," she rolled her eyes and stacked their plates, sending them to the sink with a wave of her wand. "Did any of our classmates make fools of themselves if I didn't?"

"Ted is very pleased with the memory he collected of Boot and Corner snogging. I think he's looking forward to showing you." Draco was smirking again "Other than that, just the usual drunken behaviour."

"Theo's going to be bragging about Terry for ages," Hermione said, leaning against a counter.

"We should get back to work." Draco stood.

"I can't focus," Hermione tossed her hands into the air as she spoke. "Can't we just do something else? Hang out or something?"

"Hang _out_?" Hermione watched one blonde eyebrow arch up, Draco's nose scrunching daintily with the movement. "Granger, we've never hung out before, and until now, our partnership has worked out perfectly without it."

"We hung out last night," she said, propping herself up on the kitchen counter and crossing her legs beneath her. "Besides, we have all weekend to do homework. Come on, Malfoy. Let your hair down."

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><p>Draco stared at Hermione, the elegant square of her jaw, a single curl which had come loose and grazed her neck. "Fine," he said, forcing his eyes away from her so he could flick his wand, tidying their books instantly. "Let's 'hang out', as you put it."<p>

Hermione unfolded herself, leaping from the counter and landing gracefully on her toes. She tucked the curl he had been watching behind her ear.

"What do you propose we do?" he asked, stacking the last of his things. "You don't have much to do in here unless it involves books."

"We could get Theo and Daphne and go for a walk."

Having worked at concealing his emotions since he was eleven, Draco was certain didn't show any frustration at the thought of having others join into their session. But he agreed, convincing Hermione to put on a coat before they left.

The castle was still weary from the night before, only the younger students strolling through the chilled corridors. With Halloween over, winter had stolen autumn away overnight. Draco crossed his arms against his chest, reminding himself to pick up a coat and a scarf when they collected his friends.

Hermione seemed to be enjoying the quiet, hands tucked deep into the pockets of her coat. He took quiet glances at her, noticed the freckles across her cheeks, tried not to notice the tip of her nose turn pink from cold. She shivered slightly as they descended farther into the dungeons and towards the Slytherin Common Room. She waited outside as he dragged an unenthusiastic Theo from his bed and convinced a lively Daphne to join them. He pretended not to be infuriated as Theo tossed an arm leisurely around Hermione's shoulders as they walked out of the castle, Draco busy adjusting his scarf.

"Do you like her?" Daphne asked as Theo and Hermione walked out of earshot. Draco watched the Head Girl toss her head back and laugh at something his friend had said.

"She's engaged," he said.

"You didn't answer my question," his blonde companion said. "Do you like her?"

"You've been spending too much time around your boyfriend," Draco's voice dripped with disdain.

"I can see how you look at her. It's how Blaise used to look at me, back when we were young. Like he was afraid that if he looked away, he would lose me," she said and he looked down to see a soft pink glow on her cheeks. "And you hate going on long walks, especially in the cold, so there has to be a good reason why you're out here."

"She's engaged," he repeated, shoving his hands into his coat pockets, but he looked again at Hermione who was stepping on a pile of crunchy leaves, grinning like a child. Cold filled his veins when Theo followed suit, causing the Gryffindor's smile to widen. He was sure that if he was closer, Draco would see how her eyes would be bright, dancing. "It doesn't matter how I feel."

"Of course it matters how you feel, Drake," Daphne said. "Why would you ever think it doesn't? Hermione obviously cares for you on some level."

"She cares for Ted more."

"So? Make her care for you more. Just let her know that she's important to you," Daphne began to quicken her pace. "You never know how it'll turn out."

The blonde girl reached her other two friends, linking arms with Theo as they walked. She turned back to look at Draco quickly, but all he noticed was Hermione mimicking her movements, pivoting slightly to face him. The Gryffindor smiled and hung back, waiting.

"Having fun?" she asked when he had caught up. She turned her face towards him as they walked, squinting against the afternoon sun and peering at him through a lock of hair which was in her line of sight. He paused for a brief moment before pulling his hand from his pocket and pushing it aside, the movement startling them both.

"Bit cold for my liking," he said quickly, trying to gloss over the situation. To her credit, Hermione said nothing, just kept walking. "I prefer warmer months."

"I'd have thought you would look like a lobster in summer. Wouldn't your skin just crisp up?" she said, grinning up at him.

"Funny." He rolled his eyes. "Really, Granger, you should become a comedian. But as it happens, I enjoy holidaying in the south of France during my summers. Plenty of sun."

"Is that where you'll be over Christmas, too?" she asked.

"No, I'll be at the Manor," he said. "Mother just finished refurbishing it and she's throwing a celebratory charity dinner over New Year's Eve. I'm expected to attend." He thought of all the effort his mother would be going to, the stress levels which would consume her over the break. She had already ordered his suit and attended three dress fittings for herself, her anxiety seeping into her weekly letters to him.

"You don't sound excited," Hermione commented, pausing to pick up a vibrant orange leaf.

"It's just a large amount of unnecessary drama," he said and plucked the leaf from her grasp. "She can throw as many charity desires as she wants but the Malfoy name will still be in tatters thanks to my father."

His companion said nothing, but he recognised the look on her face as they walked, cheeks tinged with pink. She was concentrating, figuring the right thing to say, working the words out on her tongue before she spoke. But they were interrupted when Theo and Daphne walked towards them, saying it would be getting dark soon and that they couldn't feel their toes.

Theo draped his arm over Hermione's shoulders as they returned to the castle and Draco could feel Daphne's eyes upon him when his body stiffened at the action. Daphne placed a cautious hand on his forearm, squeezing for reassurance when Hermione rolled her eyes and shrugged away from Theo's grasp.

The Head Girl left them at the main staircase to return to her dormitory, her soft footfalls echoing in the front hall of the castle. Draco turned around once before he and his fellow Slytherins began their descent into the dungeons, catching sight of Hermione watching them go.

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><p><strong>AN: What did you think? Tell me in a review!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Thank you so much for all the reviews! I hadn't expected much of a response from this story, but I've had quite a few of you lovely people put this story on alert or leave me a little message of what you think of the story. I absolutely love reading all of your reviews and cherish each and every single one of them, so don't hesitate to review this chapter, too!**

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><p><em><strong>Hermione's Dormitory<strong>_

_**11:57PM**_

_**Thursday, November 7**__**th**__**, 1998**_

Hermione ran a hand over her tired eyes, coming to loathe her N.E.W.T. Transfiguration class. She had always loved her more challenging classes, always excelling in the subjects where her fellows lagged behind, but her mind was distracted, consumed with thoughts about her personal life, her Head Girl duties, and the multitude of other homework items she had to work through. In the past week there had been two entirely sleepless nights, her time instead spent poring over textbooks and scratching out essays. Her weekends were spent with Draco as they were in the initial stages of brewing their first attempted potion. She was only given Saturday mornings alone, when Draco would drag his Quidditch team out of bed to train in frigid conditions.

She was looking forward to the Christmas Break, though it was still over a month away. Ron had invited her to spend the holiday period with him and his family at The Burrow after they had made up following their fight, and she could hardly wait to see him. He had begrudgingly understood her inability to meet him in Hogsmeade the past weekend, her schoolwork just too much to manage with. But she had kept her exact location a secret, knowing Ron would not understand that she _had_ to work with Draco. Instead, she and her fiancé had exchanged several Floo Calls to make up for her hectic schedule.

Hermione groaned when she looked at the clock and saw it to be already midnight, anticipating at least two more hours of work ahead of her. Ever the faithful familiar, Crookshanks perched on the desk, beside her parchment, pawing at her whenever distraction arose. He did so now as lethargy threatened to take over, the soft pads of his paw startling her.

"Alright, Crooks," she said, staring down at her nearly completed Transfiguration essay. She had to write a conclusion and edit it before she could even think about starting on her reading for Charms and a translation for Ancient Runes. The thought of all the work made her feel a bit ill as she picked up her quill. She checked over her notes as her handwriting cramped to fit all she had to say on the sheet of parchment, but it was still almost one o'clock before she started on her other classwork. By two, she had placed the last sentence of her translation for her Ancient Runes work down – making a mental note to check them over with Draco before class – and crawled gratefully into bed.

Only an hour had gone by when a nightmare pulled her back to consciousness. Crooshanks' yellow eyes were wide as she woke up screaming, bed sheets soaked with sweat and face stained with tears as she thrashed about. The cat curled close against her body and mewled softly, the sound calming her.

"I guess I won't be getting anymore sleep tonight," she mumbled to the cat when her body had almost ceased its shaking. It was just past three o'clock but the thought of closing her eyes again terrified her. Her cat cried in protest when she got up to shower, washing the sweat from her body. She had to pull two jumpers and a thick cloak on before she was warm and, wand tucked safely in her back pocket, she left her dormitory behind her.

Filch had long since finished his usual rounds and her status as Head Girl allowed her access to the castle at all hours, but Hermione was still cautious as she walked Hogwarts' frozen corridors. It seemed as though even the ghosts had retreated to some place warmer for the night.

Unaware of what her final destination would be when she first set off, her mind still captured by the nightmare, she was startled to find herself in the Dungeons. Her breath rose into the air in a soft cloud as she pushed open the door to the main Potions classroom, deciding to work on her assignment if nothing else.

"Granger?" The familiar voice startled her when she entered the room, Draco looking up from his book at the disturbance. "What are you doing here?" he asked, closing his tome and rising. In the dim light from the fire, she could see dark circles beneath his eyes. They reminded her of how exhausted, sunken he had looked in their sixth year.

"I couldn't sleep," she said, unclipping the fastening of her cloak and slinging it over the back of a chair with her second jumper, the room almost stifling. "Figured I would come here and check on our potion." She approached his seat which was positioned next to the cauldron they had been working in and observed the light grey concoction as it bubbled away. Hermione had predicted it would take a full lunar cycle for their potion to reach completion, the next full moon three weeks away. "Why are you here?" she asked, taking a seat on a table and tucking her knees beneath her chin.

"Same here," Draco said, resuming his seat. "I had a dream." She watched his jaw clench for a moment. "A nightmare. About the War."

"Same here," she said, changing her position, hand twitching towards her neck. Her mind froze as she realised the scars Bellatrix had bestowed upon her were visible. She hadn't thought she would see anyone on her walk and the usual Concealment Charm she used had slipped her mind after her shower.

Before she could hide the marks, Draco was on his feet and approaching her slowly. She forgot about covering them as he pulled the neck of her sweater down slightly, gaging her reaction. The marks were thick, two lines across her throat, mottled and white against her skin. They looked to be more like burns than the mark of a blade.

With fingertips as light as a feather's touch, Draco traced along her scars. The gesture was something so intimate it made her squirm. No one, not even Ron, had seen her scars. She was so cautious about covering them up, despising how they made her look, how they made her feel.

"I'm so sorry," he said to her, the words stunted and broken. She understood how rare a Malfoy apology was, how sincere his apology had been.

"I have others," she said. Her body shook as he finished tracing the marks on her neck. He nodded, having seen them be administered.

Confusion arose as he stepped away from her and began unbuttoning his shirt, his back facing her. She was aobut to say something when the expensive garment fell to the floor, revealing the pale skin of his lean body. Hermione couldn't restrain herself form gasping.

Draco's back was covered in long scars, each distinct line swollen and an angry red against his ivory skin. They overlapped each other in some places. She saw goosebumps break out along his flesh, muscles rippling under gaze. She was afraid to move closer, afraid to touch his scars the way he had done hers.

"My father is not a tolerant man," he said, clothing himself and returning to his seat. "And my grandfather, Abraxas, boasted a proud collection of cursed weapons, whips included."

The air caught in Hermione's throat, exited her mouth in a high-pitched wheeze. Despite the conversation, the heavy mood which had found a home between them in the room, Draco sniggered at the noise, snapping the atmosphere.

She considered casting a Concealment Charm on her neck scars, but her hand was shaking too much for any wandwork. Draco could obviously sense her fragile state, keeping his cool eyes upon her as he dug around in the various cupboards and drawers in the room until he withdrew a rusted kettle, two stained mugs and some teabags which had been stashed away by the Potions Master. He mumbled a quick Cleaning Charm over the crockery and kettle until they were no longer unfit for use and heated water over a fire.

The cup of tea revived her somewhat and she became aware of Draco's considering eyes watching her movements. "What?" she asked, finding her voice slightly squeaky.

"Nothing. It's nothing." He shook his head, dropped his eyes to his own mug and swirled its contents around. "That just wasn't the reaction I was expecting. Not that what just happened was anything I'd ever expected."

"What reaction _were_ you expecting?" she questioned, voice returned to its normal level state. She attempted to keep her voice level, detached, trying not to think of what she had just revealed to someone she had once considered her enemy.

"I don't know," he said. "A more clinical approach. Something more Granger."

She rolled her eyes. "I don't expect your future patients will be expecting you to fondle them when they come in and see you, Healer Malfoy."

He stood, eyes dark, and tipped the contents of his mug into the sink. "Right, whatever you say, Granger," he said, picking up his cloak and the book he had been reading before she arrived. "I'm going to try and get an hour of sleep before I actually have to get up for the day. I'll see you in Ancient Runes."

Draco was gone before Hermione had time to figure out what she had said wrong, but the room felt cold and lonely without anyone to talk to. She frowned and cleaned up the few things which had been messed up in the room during their visit. When it was back to its usual appearance, Hermione left the Potions classroom, following Draco's lead and returning to her dormitory, determined to catch an hour or two of uninterrupted sleep.

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><p><em><strong>Transfiguration Classroom<strong>_

_**11:45AM**_

_**Friday, November 8**__**th**__**, 1998**_

Draco's wand began to strain under the pressure he was placing on it, white knuckles squeezing it close to snapping as he heard Hermione's laugh at something Theo said. They were supposed to be working on questions set by McGonagall, but his mind was still back in the Potions classroom in the early hours of the morning, brain slow from too little sleep. Beside him, Ginny Weasley was focused on her own work. They had unknowingly struck up a deal where they never talked outside of what was necessary for their participation in class, an arrangement which suited him just fine.

He was more preoccupied with watching Hermione's interactions with Theo, distracting himself from the tedious work with thoughts of how to win over Hermione and how to get what he wanted. A Malfoy _always_ got what he wanted.

His Transfiguration partner's elbow jabbed him firmly in the side. "Malfoy, what did you get for question three?" Weasley asked, flipping her hair over her shoulder. The tip of her quill pointed against her parchment and Draco watched a drop of ink expand from the pressure. "Or do you have better things to do with your time than our work?"

He turned his steely gaze to her face, eyes narrowed, and he could feel his face adopt the look he had so often possessed in his younger days. His chin lifted jauntily into the air. "The answer is on the first page of the second chapter. Find it yourself," he said. His partner recoiled and he shut his eyes for a long moment and he restrained a sigh. "Animagi's animals are predicted by their inner traits and personality. No personal choice is considered."

Her face softened for the briefest moment before her jaw clenched and she returned to her work, allowing him to look back at Hermione and Theo. They were working, heads down undoubtedly at her insistence, but they were angled towards each other. Their positioning led him to believe they were conversing, a belief only backed up when Theo tipped his head back and laughed loudly. Transfiguration questions were never that funny, Draco thought, and McGonagall seemed to think on the same token, standing from her desk to chastise his Slytherin companion thoroughly. Even from his position at the back of the room, Draco could see Hermione's cheeks grow slightly pink, having just avoided being told off herself.

Following McGonagall's attention, the pair focused solely on their work, leaving Draco free to return to his own studies. He had been attempting to quell the green-eyed beast which raged in his chest ever since the Samhain Ball, before he even _knew _ how much he desired the Gryffindor. It had awoken when Theo had draped his arm over the back of Hermione's chair, when she had looked at her date through pretty little eyelashes and smiled at one of his jokes. Despite the other witches in the room who had all gone through countless hours of preparation for the evening, Draco had only been drawn to the brunette he had taunted mercilessly throughout their teenage years.

He had no claim over her. She certainly was closer to Theo than she was to him – though their rendezvous that morning made him think differently – and she was already engaged to someone who hadn't acted as a right arse for most of their relationship. But he craved her, allowing himself to fully embrace the feelings which he had kept quashed into a small corner of his heart since their Fourth Year, since she had glittered like a rare jewel around the Great Hall on the arm of Viktor Krum at the Yule Ball. Until this year, when they had spoken and struck up the beginnings of a friendship, he had been forced to repress what he felt, keep his memories at bay for fear of them being found by the Death Eaters who had probed his head at will.

But now, he was free, and he was going to get what he wanted to the very core of his being.

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><p><em><strong>Hermione's Dormitory<strong>_

_**Midday**_

_**Saturday, November 9**__**th**__**, 1998**_

"You look freezing," she remarked, unfolding herself from the armchair she had perched in and rising to her feet when Draco arrived. The tip of his nose was pink from the cold, cheeks catching up to the soft colour. The flush made him look younger, almost like a child, but his face was contorted into an angry scowl as she took his coat and hung it up.

Her guest moved directly in front of her roaring fire, hands outstretched towards the flame. "Pardon my lack of punctuality," he said, alluding to his half hour lateness. "The team needed a kick up the arse." He rubbed the palms of his hands together as she made tea, letting him warm up before they began their work.

She had attended a few of the Gryffindor's training sessions in previous years, and she admitted to her companion that she had never thought their training to be as rigorous as the Slytherin team's seemed to be.

"It's not just about flying around on a broom," Draco said, taking a mug off the tray she carried over and settling himself into his usual chair. "At least, not with my team. It's an all over workout. I'm trying something new this year as it seems we might have a shot at the Quidditch Cup without Potter here."

"From what I've seen, Gryffindor just fly around and throw balls at each other," she shrugged, wrapping her hands around the heat of her cup. Winter had most definitely struck Hogwarts early. "I don't see the appeal."

"It's freeing, Granger. Being in the air, being totally in control of yourself. You don't have to think of anyone else when you're up there."

"You just have to think of some great oaf whacking a Bludger at your head."

He smirked, nodding in submission to her win. A grimace ghosted over his face for a moment and he reached into the breast pocket of his jacket. "I have something for you," he said, passing over an elegant silver envelope and taking one out for himself. "From my mother."

She felt her brows knit together in confusion, placing her tea on the table and slitting the envelope over with her finger. Inside, a white card with a trim the same colour of its envelope sat and she could see a very neat, elaborate printing along it. It was precisely the script she could imagine Narcissa Malfoy writing with as she pulled it out, eyes skimming over it. "An invitation to your mother's New Year's Eve dinner?"

He nodded, looking to his own elaborate card. "I may have let slip that you were my partner for this assignment and my mother is keen to give the Malfoy family a new face, as it were. And having you at one of her soirees would no doubt prove to the world that me aren't all psychotic blood purists."

A shiver crept up Hermione's spine, nothing to do with the chill of the castle. "I don't think…" She lost her voice, her breath came in rapid pants as she realised where the event would be held, Malfoy Manor written in the fine print. She could hear blood rushing through her ears, the squeaks of oxygen as she exhaled. The blood drained from her face.

Draco looked up from his own card and her ears were too clouded to hear the expletive he uttered as he moved to kneel in front of her, removing the invitation from her hand and grasping them in his, staring her straight in the eye. "Granger." His voice barely broke through the torrent of roaring she could hear. "Granger," he said again, his voice louder, squeezing her hands. "You need to calm down. Slow your breathing."

His voice was commanding, the tone catching her attention. She began to slow her breathing to a normal pace but her head spun. Again, he said her name, this time softer. Hermione's eyes closed, letting his voice soothe her, shattering the cloud which had blocked her hearing.

"You with me?" he asked. His hands were on her forearms, shaking her slightly when she didn't respond. "Hermione?"

His use of her first name made her eyes open, his face swimming into view. She caught a look of pure fear in his eyes before her companion's perpetually cool composure came back. Her breathing was steady and the world had ceased its swimming and she felt well enough to sit up straight. His hands drew away and to his sides as he leant back onto his ankles. "No Granger?" she asked with a grin and he rolled his eyes.

"Snarky as ever, even after a panic attack, _Granger_," Draco said, rising to his feet in one graceful move and returning his seat.

"It shouldn't have taken a panic attack for you to call me by my first name," she replied. Her face returned to its normal colour.

Again, he rolled his grey eyes. "You're not going to start hyperventilating again, are you?" he asked. "I know my presence can be overwhelming, but even I think that reaction was extreme."

"You are a complete arse, Draco," she said, tucking her legs beneath her. She didn't miss the flash of his eyes when she called him by his given name. "I don't think I can go," she continued, pointing to her abandoned invitation on the floor. "Not back in there."

He nodded, just one quick inclination of his head and she knew he understood. "Do you want to get to work on our assignment or would you rather a rest?" he asked, leaving her grateful for the change in topic.

"I don't have time to rest," she said, though her attack had brought about the feelings of weariness she had been experiencing for the past two months. "We should head down to check on the potion."

Draco looked as though he was going to insist that she relax for at least a few minutes but he just pressed his lips together tightly and stood, collecting their coats from a hook by the entrance. Though there would be no journey outside, both were well aware of how chilled the corridors could be in November. The icy weather would press against the windows and find its way in through cracked stone, chilling a person to the bone in an instant. Most students would be crowded around the fireplaces in their common rooms or forcing themselves to focus in the library so the pair were spared any curious glances from their peers.

As Hermione had anticipated, the Potions classroom was deserted, just the quiet bubbling of various concoctions breaking the silence. In the past twenty four hours, their assignment had already changed to the colour of lilacs, emitting soft pink steam as it swirled in the cauldron. She was quite smitten with the colours, though her research had indicated that in its final stages it would take on a dark green hue, looking thoroughly unappetising in her mind.

They propped their books up on the desk and unrolled fresh scrolls of parchment, both sure of what task they had assigned themselves. Hermione was noting down every possible alteration she could see in the cauldron that had occurred in the last days. Though they had put them into their set of instructions, no drastic changes from the original Healing Potion had yet been administered to their assignment. Draco was still working on a list of curses which would leave unhealable scars and trying to figure out ways of reversing the effects, incantations which they would say over the pot. Hermione had also created a basic list of normal healing ingredients and was in the process of researching more possible additions. The pair were determined to cover all bases.

As they worked in near silence, only making rare remarks when they found a particularly scintillating piece of information or to ask a question, Hermione's mind drifted back to their early morning meeting the day prior. She remembered Draco's fingers on her neck, brushing them with a touch more gentle than any she had ever felt before. His apology, as smooth as honey and softer than silk. The sincerity behind his words was clear in his eyes and the memories made her quiver. Since their run in, the only thing she hadn't understood was his abrupt departure. She failed to understood what he had heard in her words.

They had keenly avoided discussion of the interaction in their Ancient Runes class. Draco's cool reaction to her had been traded for his usual disposition, though both had been too weary to work particularly hard or maintain any semblance of conversation. It had taken most of her energy to just get through the day without falling asleep at her desk. Ancient Runes was their only class where they worked together on Fridays and she had only felt awake during their period of Transfiguration, where Theo's steady jokes and banter kept her on her toes.

But when she had retired to her dormitory for the evening and collapsed into bed at nine o'clock, having had stayed up for her Alchemy tutorial which had dragged on well past her desired bedtime, she had successfully avoided her taunting nightmare. Instead, she had experienced dreams of Draco, something she would remain very tight-lipped about. There had been nothing romantic nor troubling about the images which had appeared during her slumber, but the blonde Slytherin had featured throughout the night, floating from dream to dream. His silver eyes had been visible each time, lodged in paintings or the eyes of other people or sometimes simply floating along near her. She had woken feeling more rested than she had in weeks, having slept for a solid twelve and a half hours, but the thoughts of her dreams made her stomach flutter in a way which concerned her.

"Concentrate any harder and you'll snap that quill clean in half," Draco's voice interrupted her thoughts and she realised her hand had stilled over her parchment, ink dropping from the feather in her hand. Her knuckles were clenched white around it. She let out a soft "_Oh_" and vanished the stain with her wand, placing her quill against the table top. "What were you thinking about?"

She felt her face flush scarlet and ignored the quirked eyebrow Draco offered her. "Nothing," she said too quickly. She dropped her eyes back to the desk, though the same grey orbs which had inhabited her dreams were still staring at her, that damned perfect blonde brow still raised in a silent question. Hermione bit her lip, forcing herself to look up at her companion. "It was nothing that concerns you."

"Weasley?" he asked without missing a beat. She caught his smug smirk as she scowled at him, but Hermione understood her safest bet was to make him think she was thinking of her fiancé. She offered him a quick nod, casting her eyes downward at her parchment, but her movement wasn't fast enough to miss the strange look which passed over his face. If it wasn't Draco and she wasn't Hermione, the Gryffindor would have sworn it to be disappointment.

"Just thinking of the Christmas Break," she said, fiddling with the ring on her left hand. It moved in small circles around her finger, the inside polished until it almost gleamed from all the movement she provided it with.

"You're going to wear through your skin one day," Draco commented, watching the action. "You do that whenever anyone brings up your darling fiancé."

She sniffed at the way he pronounced fiancé, his voice dripping with disdain. "It's just a small tick," she said. "You have one where you're a complete arse all of the time."

His eyes lit up. "I missed our witty banter, Granger."

"The wit only ever came from me, Malfoy," she retorted. "You would just call me horrid names and prance about with your daft minions."

His lip curled in slight amusement at her words, both brows raised. "I believe I had some brilliant one liners on occasion. You were the only one to resort to physical violence back in Third Year."

"I doubt a punch on the nose is quite as bad as some of things you said to me," she said, sitting up a little straighter and looking down her nose at him. "_Mudblood_."

He winced at the word, swallowed heavily. His mouth opened and closed a few times before he was able to come up with a coherent reply. "I haven't called you that in years," he said, clamping his lips together.

"Well, nothing does quite as much damage as being called awful names at age twelve." She could feel angry tears prickling at her eyes as memories came back of the extreme cruelty he had inflicted upon her throughout their relationship.

"I would take it all back," he said, unable to keep the words from tumbling out of his mouth. "If I could, I would take them all back. Every hurtful remark I made against you. All the things I said against other people. You have to understand that."

Hermione swallowed the lump in her throat, quashed the feeling her tears in her eyes. "I know," she said. "You were young and stupid. You're still stupid," she smiled at this, "but you aren't that person anymore." He visibly relaxed, one of his rare true smiles spreading across his face. "But just for the record, I wouldn't take back that punch in the face."

It was the first time Hermione had heard Draco truly laugh. The sound was rich, reminding her of black coffee and fireside warmth as his head leant back for a moment. His laughter only lasted for a few seconds, but it filled her with calm, made her think she was lucky to have him as a friend if it meant he would keep laughing like that around her.

They were interrupted by Daphne and Pavarti who had the same idea they had, taking advantage of the deserted classroom to work on their potion. Daphne gave Draco a smile which made Hermione curious, the warmth in the expression concealing a hidden meaning. His lips twitched up in response, further intriguing her as she watched the exchange. Pavarti just offered Hermione a bright smile, sitting across from her and immediately asking her what she had been up to.

Throughout their many years as roommates, they had never been particularly close, though Hermione found her far more tolerable than she had found Lavender Brown and was more than happy to engage in conversation with her. But with Lavender's death, Pavarti had lost her closest confidant and Hermione wasn't certain she had found another besides her twin sister. Hermione indulged her old friend, listening to her fellow Gryffindor's gossip. She had been spending so much time with Slytherins, either working with Draco or hanging around Daphne and Theo that she felt a bit starved of contact with her fellow lions. Ginny had been the only one she had really maintained a strong friendship with, though Hermione had been sure to make time for Neville, too.

She nodded along as Pavarti described the desperate love triangle occurring between three Gryffindors Hermione didn't know, her face angled away from her conversational partner and towards the two Slytherins who were having a silent conversation with their eyes. Aware of Daphne's intelligence and Draco's profound skill in the area, Hermione assumed they were communicating through some form of wandless Legilimency. Daphne caught her stare, looking away from Draco to smile at her. Pavarti's babble faded into background noise as the brunette watched her two Slytherin companions return to their conversation, looking deeply into each other's eyes to continue their conversation with ease.

Hermione forced herself to pay attention to the other Gryffindor in the room, nodding along with her words, making appreciative or disapproving noises, judged by the inflection in Pavarti's voice. Daphne and Draco had turned to their work, though the female Slytherin kept glancing at her. She began to feel warm under her collar from the attention and she rolled the sleeves of her sweater up. Hermione continued to nod as she picked up her quill, trying to concentrate on Pavarti's voice and the work before her rather than the inquisitive looks from Daphne.

She felt relieved when her work was finished close to four o'clock although Daphne's peeks at her had ceased and Pavarti had stopped speaking. Rolling up her completed work and shrugging on her coat, Hermione bade farewells to the group and headed to her dormitory to dump her books and assignments before deciding to visit Ginny in the Gryffindor Common Room.

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><p><strong>AN: I'm still looking for someone to beta this story if they would like to, so message me if you are interested!**

**Please let me know what you think in a review!**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: I know this update has taken me a lot longer than usual and I apologise for that. I've been quite ill and I also went on a weekend away with my family which involved to a trip to a Harry Potter exhibition at a museum in Sydney, resulting in the purchase of a Slytherin scarf and a replica of Hermione's wand. **

**Thank you to everyone who has reviewed and please let me know what you think of this chapter! I promise it won't be anywhere near as long for the next one to arrive.**

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><p><em><strong>Slytherin Common Room<strong>_

_**8:00PM**_

_**Saturday, November 30**__**th**__**, 1998**_

"Do you know what you're going to give to her?" Daphne asked Draco, the Common Room silent. Most students were at the library, forcing themselves to complete as much work as possible before the Christmas Break. The others were from the Quidditch team, Draco having enforced an unprecedented training session to get them into shape. They had come back, freezing and wet and with a few players lightly injured five minutes prior, stomping mud up to their dormitories to bathe. Being the Quidditch Captain, Draco had been able to remain relatively dry, simply instructing his team from his broom rather than being forced to fly straight into the gale.

"Pardon?" he said, propping his feet up on the coffee table and interlacing his fingers behind his head, the spitting image of relaxation. His cheeks were still stained pink from the cold but he had changed out of his damp robes and into a clean cut suit upon his return, the top few buttons of his crisp black dress shirt undone. "What am I going to buy who?"

"Teddy's already bought her a watch." Daphne closed the book she had been reading before the arrival of the team and placed it carefully on the table beside his feet. She was silent for another moment as she deposited her glasses atop the tome. "Speaking of Teddy, where is he?"

"Took a Bludger to the nose. Pomfrey will have him back in no time." Draco's shoulders lifted and fell in an elegant shrug. "_Who_ has he bought a watch for?"

Daphne raised her brows at her friend, crossing her legs neatly at the ankle. "Hermione, of course," she said, not missing the glint in Draco's eye at the name of his crush. "It's a lovely watch, actually. A bit too elaborate for her, I think, and not all that personal, but lovely nonetheless." It _was_ a pretty timepiece, Teddy showing it to her in secret after he bought it, asking her opinion, wondering if he should engrave it with something. She had said no to the latter, convincing him it would be too much, though her loyalties lay elsewhere. Daphne was a firm believer that Draco deserved happiness, something he had lost entirely a few years ago, and she had noted that being with Hermione seemed to make him happy. Short of breaking up her Gryffindor friend's engagement, Daphne was prepared to do almost anything to ensure Draco ended up happy with the Head Girl.

Her friend's eyes narrowed. "What's it like?" Draco asked, changing from his relaxed position and sitting up straight, legs crossed at the knee and feet off the table. "What does it look like?" His voice was gravelly from the green-eyed monster she knew to be roaring inside of him.

"Lovely, as I said," she smiled. "A bit ostentatious. A pink gold band with a few crystals circling its round face. Very pretty, though more suited to Pansy, I feel. The price range is more to Pansy's tastes, too, I think." She hadn't gone ahead and asked the cost of such an elaborate gift, though a lifetime of growing up around the finer things in life made her certain that it was to have cost Teddy more than he should be spending. "I think it's something that should be gifted to someone close to you. A lover, perhaps."

She had chosen her words carefully, eliciting the desired response. Draco's eyes flashed, his nostrils flared, and his cheeks coloured with anger. "But I think she would enjoy something more sentimental," Daphne continued, looking up at Draco through thick lashes, but she kept her head down, fiddling with a loose thread on her cardigan. "She isn't one for gifts as extravagant as Teddy's."

The wheels in Draco's mind could almost be seen through his eyes, filtering through a variety of possible gifts to give to the Gryffindor. They sat in near silence for a full minute, the only noise coming from the crackling fireplace, until he gave a triumphant smirk and resumed his relaxed posture. She lifted her brows at him but he was keeping his lips shut, just continuing to smile.

"Do I want to know why you're giving my girl a shit-eating grin?" Blaise broke their silence, sitting beside his witch and pulling her legs onto his lap. He leaned over to give her a small kiss, smelling of soap and her favourite cologne which, consequently, had become his scent of choice. "Actually, let me guess. It's got something to do with that brunette Gryffindor you're drooling over, correct?"

Draco let the air flow out between his teeth in a low hiss as his best mate spoke so freely about Hermione, Daphne watching the cool exchange. Blaise had been the first to point out Draco's feelings clearly to him, though Daphne had noted how he looked at Hermione, how his disposition changed when she was around before her boyfriend had even begun to suspect everything. It appeared Draco wasn't pleased that her wizard was aware of the situation, no doubt fearing that word would spread. But Blaise had sworn to her to keep his mouth shut and she had learned from experience that he would do whatever she asked if it was something she was serious about.

"I couldn't care less about who you want to date, Drake," Blaise assured him, then paused for a moment and frowned. "Unless it's Daphne," he added and she let out a giggle.

"As charming as your witch is, I would rather you didn't hex me beyond The Veil," Draco said. "And I would rather you kept your voice down, Blaise. Not everyone needs to hear about my love life."

"Or lack thereof," her boyfriend added in a mutter and Daphne dug her heel into his thigh, dangerously close to his crotch. "Fine," he amended, snatching up her foot and holding it firmly by his knee. "I won't mention it again."

Looking satisfied, Draco smirked and leant his head against the back of his chair, shutting his eyes for a few moments. Daphne looked over his form subtly, hoping to avoid detection from her beau. She was truly concerned for her lifelong friend, who had suffered so greatly during The War. They had all become social pariahs since its end, but everyone in the castle was acutely aware of just what Draco's family had done, though they remained unaware of what they themselves had been through. Consequently, he had been on the receiving ends of many disdainful glares, had been threatened, and had endured a nasty altercation with a Ravenclaw fifth year which she had barely stopped in time before the first curses were thrown.

He didn't look quite as sunken and weary as he had during their sixth year, when the pressures of the Dark Lord were heavy on his shoulders, but he hadn't completely recovered. Blaise had told her in secret that Draco would often wake up in the middle of the night or else wake their dormitory with his nightmares, thrashing and yelling in his sleep. He had confided in her about how he and Theo often had to rouse themselves out of bed and hold him down just to prevent him from injuring himself. She was certain Draco had to be using some sort of Concealment Charm on the circles which should have been present beneath his eyes. There was also his obsession with Quidditch training, dragging his teammates out at every possible opportunity and forcing them to the end of their tether. When they refused, he would go out and exercise or practice by himself at all hours.

But she had noticed when he was around Hermione, when she laughed or smiled or even looked his way, Drake's mood would brighten, his posture would straighten up. On the few occasions she had seen them communicating in private, she could see him acting like his old self, smart and witty with the hint of sarcasm that made verbally sparring with him such a pleasure. That was the Draco she had grown up with, the one she had always wanted to be close to, and if Hermione brought out it out in him, Daphne was desperate to jump to the challenge of helping him woo the witch.

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><p><em><strong>Hermione's Dormitory<strong>_

_**3:30PM**_

_**Sunday, December 1**__**st**__**, 1998**_

Daphne accepted the cup and saucer Hermione offered her, sitting in the Head Girl's quarters for the first time that year. For a fleeting moment she wished she had worked that tiny bit harder to achieve such a position, a drop of jealousy creeping down her spine at the sight of the room. But it passed when she realised how frazzled the Gryffindor was, the bags under her eyes and the mess of her appearance.

She had requested this afternoon tea as a hope of becoming closer with Hermione, wishing to be good friends with her and perhaps possess some inside information that could benefit Draco. The Head Girl had agreed and seemed rather grateful for the opportunity to stop working on assignments and her other duties, if only for an afternoon. She had gone to the effort of getting scones and a few other small cakes from somewhere and, combined with the large pot of tea which had been brewed and the crackling fire, Daphne felt quite cosy and comfortable.

"It's a lovely apartment, Hermione," she said, eyeing the careful taste of the decorator, how everything seemed impossibly tied together through small accents in pillows and throw rugs. "I envy the privacy. The Common Room is always so loud and crowded, and even the library isn't particularly peaceful anymore. You must get a lot of work done."

"Too much, I fear," the brunette said. "Not sharing a room with so many others has made me far less sociable than in the past. I only really see people if I invite them over to study. Other than that, I see Ginny in class. I suppose Draco is the person I see most of, actually."

Daphne hid a smile behind her teacup as she took a long sip but didn't press the relationship between the witch in front of her and her close friend, wanting to leave the juicier subject matter until later. "I suppose if I had this place, Blaise would be over all the time," she admitted.

"Speaking of Blaise, he still hasn't asked you?" Hermione asked. Daphne watched her fingers twist the ring on her left hand.

"Not yet. I have an inkling it will be over the Christmas Break. He's taking me to his family's estate in Italy for some time alone together. I imagine we'll announce our official engagement sometime after the New Year. We would do it sooner, but Blaise doesn't want to interrupt Narcissa's celebrations," Daphne said and returned her cup and saucer to the table. She took a scone from the tiered rack and smeared it lightly with strawberry jam, nibbling on it thoughtfully. "Blaise mentioned Narcissa wrote you an invitation."

"I don't think I can go," Hermione said with distant eyes. She was looking over Daphne's shoulder, out a window which faced over the grounds. Daphne took the opportunity to note the heavy sadness which rested on her friend's shoulders, the same defeated posture Draco had, the same exhausted face and blank eyes. Their weary bones were hidden behind facades of cheer, only exposed when one took the time to seek the discoloration below their eyes.

"That's a shame, but it's very understandable." Daphne shared a look to let her know she was aware of what had occurred in Malfoy Manor and that the secret was safe with her, told in a night of confidence by Draco. He had awoken from a nightmare and she had been studying early in the morning in their Common Room. Overwhelmed by his dream, he had confided in her what kept him awake at night. "Do you and your fiancé have any exciting plans for the holidays? A romantic trip away, perhaps?"

Hermione laughed. "Hardly," she said and finished her tea, replacing the cup and saucer on the table and pouring them each a fresh cup. "Ron isn't one for romantic gestures. We're spending the holidays at his parents' place. It's not much, but I suppose it's a bit of a tradition. His family lost a lot during The War and I think it comforts his mother to have as many people around as possible."

"That's sweet that you're spending Christmas with his family. Blaise doesn't get on particularly well with his mother so we normally spend the period either in private at a villa or with my family," Daphne said. "I feel a bit bad, honestly, like I'm going to be an awful daughter-in-law before we're even married."

"Hasn't Blaise's mother been married a few times?"

"Seven," Daphne clarified. "She's a character, honestly, but don't believe the rumours about her. She's beautiful and arrogant, yes, but she could never kill anyone. Her ex-husbands were all elderly when they married."

"May I ask why Blaise and her don't get on?"

Daphne raised her brows at her friend, tone dry: "She re-married two weeks after Blaise's father passed. He was a wreck and for a short while he was convinced she _had_ murdered his father. But Aurors got involved and it was proved that his death had been caused by a particularly strong case of Dragon Pox and no case of foul play was found. Blaise has never really forgiven her for getting over his father so quickly."

"Understandable," Hermione mumbled and looked to her tea. Their conversation changed onto the subject of their classwork, eventuating onto their Potions assignment after a half hour. Hermione brought up Draco again and Daphne saw her opportunity.

"I'm jealous that you get to work with him," she admitted. "He's so passionate."

The brunette smiled, her lips turning up gently and softly. "Honestly, it was such a nice surprise when we were partnered. I hadn't expected him to be so enthusiastic about it, let alone come up with such an ingenious task. I certainly didn't expect it from the Draco Malfoy I've known since I was eleven."

Daphne gave a dainty laugh. "Drake's changed a lot," she said. "I suppose he always had a bit of a superiority complex as a child, but if he respects a person, he'd go out of his way to be good to them. But he was still under a lot of pressure from his father, forced to uphold the family name and all that rubbish, so he just acted like a complete twat." Hermione chuckled. "But he's a genuinely good person now, and he's so apologetic for what he's done in the past. It's a bit creepy to see him like this, actually."

Hermione nodded in agreement. "When I was partnered with him in _three_ classes this year, I thought it was going to be a complete nightmare," she admitted. "But like I said before, he's so enthusiastic, and we get on surprisingly well outside of the class scenario, too." She paused, biting her lip and carefully choosing her next words. Daphne could almost see her testing them on her tongue. "I suppose he's become a good friend of mine. We can talk about things I couldn't even begin to discuss with Ron, who doesn't seem to pay attention unless the topic is food, sex, or Quidditch."

Daphne offered the witch a smile. "Most men are the same," she said. "Blaise is only concerned with discussing educational subjects if it might lead to me working on his essays for him. He tried it with Draco once and ended up with a nasty hex to his nether regions."

Hermione's face scrunched up. "Ew, remind me never to annoy Draco."

"I doubt he'd ever do anything like that to _you_," Daphne said, ensuring the emphasis on her words did not go amiss. Hermione's eyes widened for half a second at the implication before she jumped up and hurried to the kitchenette to brew another pot of tea. "Oh, I wish I could stay for another pot but I really must get back to studying," the Slytherin said, wanting to leave Hermione with her hint. Daphne rose to her feet and collected her coat from the stand, fastening it around her body. "It was really lovely to spend time with you, Hermione. We really must do it again sometime soon."

The Gryffindor seemed to have calmed herself, turning to Daphne with a bright smile and no clear concern over what she had just said moments ago. "It really was quite an enjoyable afternoon," she conceded. "You should come over for lunch one day, perhaps after the Christmas Break."

They parted with a brief hug, Daphne filtering through every word her friend had said regarding Draco, plotting her next move as matchmaker extraordinaire.

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><p><em><strong>Hogwarts Express<strong>_

_**1:00PM**_

_**Friday, December 20**__**th**__**, 1998**_

Daphne watched sheets of rain pound the train's windows, an icy waterfall skidding down the glass. Her feet propped in Blaise's lap, a book open on her lap. The bench opposite in their compartment was shared by a tense Draco and Theo, both acting overtly cordial. Her beau passed a concerned look in her direction at the atmosphere caused by their friends.

"I think I hear the trolley coming, Draco," she said, closing her book and getting to her feet in a swift movement. "Let's go get some lunch for everyone."

Daphne ignored the withering stare her friend gave her as she tugged him to his feet and into the corridor, waiting for the approaching rattle of the food cart. "It's nowhere near us yet, Daphne," Draco drawled, turning back to the compartment. Before he could get very far, she caught a fistful of his robes, tugging him back.

"Why are you acting like a complete twat towards Teddy?" she asked, shoving him into a nearby empty compartment and shutting the door with a flick of her wand. "Is it because of Hermione? Because he likes her, too? Are you really going to let a girl come between you when you've been friends since before you could walk?"

His eyes narrowed and he crossed the compartment in one long stride, facing the wild weather which continued to batter the train. She broke into his thoughts for a few seconds, saw him replaying a scene which he had seen earlier in the week. Teddy had pulled Hermione into a tight hug, the witch laughing as he dropped her into a pile of snow, the white powder fluffing up around her. "Get out of my head, Daphne," he snapped, darkness shooting her out of his mind and back to reality.

"You were there when she hexed him for that, right?" she asked, sitting on one of the compartment benches and crossing her legs beneath her. "She didn't let him get away with it."

_She hugged him back_, he thought so loudly that it bounced into Daphne's mind. The scowl on Draco's face was so pronounced it looked carved by a sculptor, chin jutted out haughtily.

"I hug Teddy, too, and if you weren't as cold as a Freezing Charm then I'd hug you, too," Daphne said, nodding at him to stop brooding and take a seat opposite her. "You have to stop interpreting every interaction she has with him as romantic in nature. No matter what his feelings are for her, she's still engaged and Hermione would ever do anything that could be seen as cheating on Ronald. A hug is just a hug at this point, and Teddy is still one of your best friends. Honestly, your jealousy is completely irrational."

He glared at her as she jumped up from her seat, actually hearing the approaching food trolley as it rattled its way down the train. Daphne ordered several pumpkin pasties, a pitcher of pumpkin juice and an assortment of sweets to share with her group of friends, Draco lagging behind and helping with the menu. Blaise looked up expectantly at her, the environment of their compartment feeling much lighter without Draco's heavy thoughts. She nodded once, passing out the food and resuming her seat.

Draco stared at Teddy for a few moments and took his seat. There was a tense few seconds as no one said anything before Draco made a wry joke at Blaise's expense and the stressed mood which had existed for the first few hours of their trip vanished. The group lapsed back into easy conversation, Daphne sending a mental _thank you_ to Draco who nodded in answer.

She returned to her book as the boys talked about Slytherin's success on the Quidditch pitch so far in the year for a few hours, the rain turning to snow and the world outside turning to night as they approached London. They pulled on heavy coats and wrapped scarves around themselves, Blaise taking her luggage with him and shrinking them down to fit neatly into his pockets. Draco and Teddy opted to be less lazy, carrying their trunks behind them as the train screeched into the station and students filed up and down the corridor, eager to get home for the Christmas Break.

Just able to see out a window, Daphne could see parents of younger students lining up on the platform and she spotted an unmistakable crop of bright orange hair. Draco followed her eyes and she felt him stiffen beside her. The view only got worse for him as Hermione jumped off the train further down, running across the platform and into Ron's waiting arms. Daphne could almost hear the anger in Draco's chest threatening to burst his seams at the image of the happy couple embracing.

_Draco_, she thought at him, using Blaise as a pretext for squeezing in front of the seething Slytherin and blocking his view. _Calm down. Throwing a tantrum won't impress her._ Daphne placed a reassuring hand on Draco's forearm and squeezed it lightly as she manoeuvred herself beside her boyfriend. _Stop_.

Draco's cool grey eyes looked down at her as the queue started to move, students released into the freedom of the winter holiday. She could still see the anger in his eyes but he had masked the emotions on the rest of his face, curling his lip in the contempt he had worn so proudly for most of his boyhood. "Move it, Blaise," he said, nudging the Italian wizard in the back. "I wouldn't mind getting back to my Manor sometime today."

Blaise did as he bade, pushing past slow moving students until the group emerged onto the platform. Daphne noticed that Hermione had already vanished with her wizard, deeming it safe for Draco to continue after them without him bristling any longer. They each parted ways, exchanging promises to catch up after Christmas. Theo was the first to apparate away with a loud crack, Draco melting into thin air seconds after that. Blaise took Daphne's hand in his own before pulling them into the tube of apparition.

…

Hermione laughed as Ron lifted her off her feet on the platform, peppering her cheeks with small kisses. Entirely absorbed in the presence of her fiancé, she ignored the flashes of cameras, the audience which followed the couple whenever possible. She let out a quiet giggle before seeking his lips out with her own, tangling her fingers in his hair for a moment before pulling away with a frown.

"First thing I'm doing when we get home is giving you a haircut," she said, pulling lightly at the long strands interlaced with her fingers.

"The first thing?" he asked with raised brows. "Really? Because I have a new bed in the flat which is calling our name."

A smile crept up the side of her face as he kissed her again. "Maybe the second thing, then."

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><p><em><strong>Harry and Ron's flat, London<strong>_

_**Later that evening**_

Hermione hummed to herself as she prepared dinner for everyone, wearing one of Ron's large shirts with her hair up in a frazzled bun. She could hear her fiancé and Ginny sparring over a game of wizard's chess in the next room as Harry moved to join her in the kitchen, clearing his throat to announce his arrival.

"What's up, Harry?" she asked, flicking her wand to start a wooden spoon stirring the pot of soup on the stove. The smell of minestrone penetrated the whole apartment to give it a cosier feel than that which the boys had given it with a few Quidditch posters and a large amount of mess.

"Can I show you something?" His voice was more serious than she had heard since The War, brows furrowed and hair sticking up all over the place. She nodded and moved closer, sensing he had no desire to be overheard by their significant others in the next room as he stuck his hand in his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box. She restrained a gasp, opting for a wide smile as the hinges creaked open and she saw the dazzling ring displayed. "I'm thinking of giving it to her on Christmas Day. I know we haven't been back together for long, but I'm sure about this."

Hermione struggled to keep the smile off her face. "She's going to love it, Harry," she said, catching him off guard and throwing her arms around his neck. "I'm so happy for you!" He patted her back softly, grinning when their embrace concluded. "Now make some use of yourself and set the table."

His green eyes rolled as he collected cutlery and bowls, setting them out on the small table. He removed the clutter and pushed it onto the floor, ignoring her admonishments. "You don't think it's too soon?"

She looked up at him, ladling the soup into a large bowl and levitating it over to the table. "I'm not one to talk. Ron and I were only officially 'together' for a couple of weeks before he proposed. You and Ginny have so much history and I know for a fact that you're the one she wants to spend her life with. I don't think she can wait much longer, either."

"Molly's going to go crazy planning the weddings," Harry laughed. He stuck his head into the next room to collect the siblings who had moved onto Exploding Snap.

Hermione passed Harry secretive glances and tried to hide her beaming through dinner, successfully avoiding detection from their beaus as they argued about who had really won their pre-dinner card game.

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><p><strong>AN: I'm not entirely happy with this chapter, but I feel I've been so slack with writing it and I just had to get it out tonight. The next chapter is already almost finished and I think is going to end up really quite long. It should be up sometime in the next few days.**

**Until then, PLEASE REVIEW!**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: This is easily the longest chapter yet and **_**a lot**_** happens in it, too. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far and to everyone who is yet to review. It means a lot to me!**

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><p><em><strong>Harry and Ron's Flat, London<strong>_

_**Midday**_

_**Tuesday, December 24**__**th**__**, 1998**_

"We should go to your parents' house," Hermione said, sitting up and pulling the sheet with her to maintain her modesty. "We're meant to be there by now. Harry and Ginny left a half hour ago."

"We _should_ stay in bed a bit longer," Ron contradicted, pulling her back down to him and pressing a long kiss to her lips. "In fact, we should just stay in bed for the rest of your Christmas Break."

Hermione laughed placing her palms on his chest to push herself back up. "We've hardly left the bed since I've arrived. Now, I promised your mother that we'd be there for Christmas Eve and Day and I don't want to be a flaky daughter-in-law before it's even my official title." She rolled out of his embrace with the sheet wrapped tight around her body, aware of her fiancé's eyes on her form. "I'm going to have a shower and you're _not_ going to follow me in. You can check on all the presents while I'm getting ready."

"You're so bossy," Ron sighed, propping his head up on his hand and staring at her with his brilliant blue eyes. "But I guess I love it."

She grinned at him, dropping the sheet on her way into the bathroom and restraining a laugh at the groan it elicited from her fiancé. They _had_ spent almost the entirety of the last four days in bed, moving only for food and the occasional bathroom break. There had been little conversation, just quiet murmurs late at night. From the lack of disturbances from Harry and Ginny, Hermione assumed that they had been occupied in a similar manner.

Hermione washed the grime off her, shampooing her hair and brushing out all the knots which had formed very carefully. She opted to let it dry naturally, into its usual mess of curls atop her head which she knew Ron adored, and put on a small amount of makeup, excited to see the family she would soon truly be a part of. She had missed the Weasley clan terribly after they had adopted her so fully as a daughter, particularly following her parents Obliviation. In turn, she had helped them through the hard times they had faced after The War, after Fred's death.

"You're such a tease," Ron complained when she left the steamy bathroom clad only in a towel which barely left her decent. She sent him into the bathroom with orders to shower and make himself presentable for their visit to The Burrow for Christmas, picking out a red sweater dress for herself for the occasion. A thick pair of woollen tights and a large black coat ensured she wouldn't freeze to death on the visit. She packed two overnight bags whilst he bathed, having decided that they would spend the night in Ron's old room rather than having to travel back from their apartment the next morning.

"Ready?" Her fiancé was out of the shower and dressed in jeans and an old Weasley sweater, _R_ emblazoned upon it in large gold lettering. She nodded and shrunk their overnight bags down, keeping them safely in her handbag as the couple apparated to The Burrow together, hands linked.

Snow had been falling steadily around the property, thick blankets of it settled across the crooked roof of the house, the grounds covered in a fresh layer. Flakes caught in Hermione's hair, settled on Ron's shoulders as they hunched against the cold and walked past the wards. Molly waved at them from a window, though Hermione was certain they would be chastised for their tardiness when they made it to the warm house.

The front door unlocked, the couple walked into the living room where the entire Weasley family was gathered. Harry had challenged Bill to a game of Wizard's Chess, both men being advised by their significant others as Percy and his girlfriend, Audrey, watched on. Molly was banging around in the kitchen, pots and pans clattering from the other room, and Hermione could hear her having a light conversation with Arthur about what placemats to use for lunch. Her heart ached as she found George sitting in the corner, removed from everyone else, staring out into the garden as though he were looking for someone, waiting for a guest's late arrival.

"You two are _late_," Molly said, returning to the living room, hands on her hips. "Let me look at you, Hermione." The elder witch held her at arm's length, surveying her through pursed lips. "You're looking a bit skinny, but it's nothing a few meals here won't fix." With that, the two embraced, Hermione breathing in the smell of home, freshly baked bread and soap which clung to Molly's skin.

"It's so good to see you, Molly," Hermione smiled when they pulled back, reaching into her bag and pulling out the shrunken overnight cases. She instructed Ron to take the bags up to his old room after his mother had returned to the kitchen. She shared a smile with the rest of the guests but opted to sit with George instead of participating in the ruckus they were creating. "Hey, George."

His dark eyes flickered over to her, not a trace of the humour which had once shone so brightly in them. "Hi," he said, looking back to the snow covered garden. She hadn't anticipated any further conversation, content to sit in his silence as Ron returned and joined Harry's side in the chess game, yelling instructions at the already confused pieces. All she wanted was for George to know that she was there, willing to listen if he needed it, waiting for him to open up and finally talk to someone more than six months after Fred's death.

"Don't you want to sit with the others?" George's voice surprised her after five minutes of reminiscing. "I'm not really up for conversation."

"I'm not in the mood to talk right now," she said, smiling lightly at him. "But when you _are_ up for conversation, I'll always be willing to listen. Whatever you want to talk about, I'll listen."

Hermione saw his eyes go watery, a stray tear or two leak out the corner of his eyes. He looked back out the window, cheeks pink with embarrassment, turning to her when he had collected himself. "I'll keep that in mind, Hermione," he said, giving her the first smile she had seen on his face since Fred's death.

Molly chose that moment to call everyone for lunch, an elaborate spread of sandwiches and soups. Hermione helped George to his feet, walking with a hand on the small of his back into the kitchen. She watched in silence throughout the meal as he participated slightly in the conversation, the first major interaction he'd had with anyone for over half a year.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Malfoy Manor<strong>_

_**5:00PM**_

_**Tuesday, December 24**__**th**__**, 1998**_

Draco lay on his bed, legs crossed at the ankle and head resting on interwoven hands, staring up at the canopy of his bed. With just one week until her elaborate party, his mother was running around like a headless hippogriff, ordering the hired help around to make sure the place was perfect. No one was allowed near the East Wing of the house, where she had oriented the entire affair to take place. Draco had spent the last few days avoiding his parents like the plague, his father furious at the expenses his mother was spending on the upcoming evening, his mother likely to put him to work scrubbing the floors the Muggle way should he cross her path.

They hadn't even interacted at meals, Draco taking his supper in his bedroom and waking up too late to have breakfast with his parents. But they had long celebrated a Christmas Eve tradition of a drawn out dinner, starting at six o'clock sharp every year. He had wanted to avoid the debacle but his mother had sent a house elf over to remind him just a few minutes earlier, making sure he was aware that it was a formal occasion and that he was to wear some of his best dress robes.

He sighed, realising that if he was to arrive at the dining room on time then he would have to start getting ready soon, rolling from his bed and planting his feet firmly on the hardwood floors. Draco soothed himself beneath the beating water of his shower, ignoring it's too-hot temperature scalding his skin. He returned to his room, towel slung around his hips, and found an elf had laid out his mother's favourite suit for him. A slim fit and light grey in colour, his mother would rave that it precisely matched the shade of his eyes.

Draco combed his hair back neatly in front of the mirror and straightened his suit coat. With the laces of his shoes tied and wand tucked safely into the breast pocket of his dinner jacket, he went on his way to the dining room, eyes roaming over the redecorations his mother had made. Whilst the estate had once been such a cold place, stone walls and floors and icier than the Hogwarts dungeons at midnight on December, it was now full of warm tones. It didn't feel like the house he had grown up in, but instead it felt like a home. The dining room, once a display room for cursed objects and a place full of death and torture during the Dark Lord's stay, now had pale walls and dark wood floors, vases of fresh flowers scattered around the room with family portraits stuck to the walls.

"Draco, dear." His mother rose from her seat at his arrival and swept over to kiss his cheek and embrace him lightly before taking a step back and resting her palm on the front of his suit. "I do love that colour, darling. It really brings out your eyes." She smoothed the jacket down and patted his cheek once. "Come now, dinner is almost ready."

"Son," Lucius said, nodding at Draco as he took a seat to his sire's left, his mother opposite. "You've hardly been out of your room since you returned home."

"My apologies," Draco said, pouring out goblets of wine for everyone present at the table. "I've been working on my assignments. Seventh year is proving to be a very busy time for me, even over the holiday period."

"As long as you're able to attend your mother's dinner next week, you're free to spend as much time as you wish in your room," Lucius said stiffly and Draco knew his father was aware that he had actually spent the time in his room as a means of staying away from the senior Malfoy. There was still a great deal of tension in the house, Draco unable to forgive his father for forcing their family into such horrendous circumstances. "I'm sure all this work will pay off with top marks in your N.E.W.T exams."

"Speaking of your schoolwork, Draco," Narcissa said as their first course – escargot cooked in a white wine sauce with a small bowl of garlic butter sauce – was served. "How is your Potions work with Miss Granger coming along?"

"It's going well, Mother," Draco said, curious about his mother's motives. In the past, she had never extended invitations to his other partners in class nor shown any particular interest in his schoolwork. "I wasn't aware it concerned you so much."

"Darling, I'm just wondering how you're getting along at school, if you're making friends." Narcissa waved her hands about airily as she spoke.

"And wondering if I can befriend Hermione and _use_ her to boost our social status back up, no doubt," Draco snapped, preparing himself to leave the dining room. Lucius sent him a warning look, a silent order to behave. He glared at his sire but returned to his appetiser, looking up at his mother for answers.

"Perhaps I have other motives, dear, but I am truly concerned about you. Our entire family has been ostracised by the events of the last few years and I'm concerned that, without the beneficial backing of someone like Miss Granger, we will continue to remain lepers," Narcissa explained, unfazed by her son's snarky comment. "Will she be attending my little event next week?"

"Mother, I think that the fact she was tortured and nearly killed in our house might have put her off returning," Draco said, pushing his plate away. "So no, she won't be attending your event and boosting your position in the social pages of Witch Weekly as the reformed wife of a Death Eater."

"Draco." It was Lucius' turn to speak. "You will _not_ talk to your mother like that. She has done nothing wrong and she doesn't deserve your foul attitude."

"I'm simply trying to give our family some chance of redeeming itself," Narcissa spoke shrilly, effectively silencing both her husband and her son's argument. "If she doesn't want to attend, that is perfectly fine, but I don't wish to disrupt our Christmas Eve dinner with yet another argument. I'm trying to do what is best for the Malfoy name."

Draco glared at his father who was still sitting stiffly, hand clenched around the handle of his wand. "I apologise, Mother. Such an outburst won't happen again," he said, turning to look at his mother, the witch trying to calm herself. "Let's enjoy the rest of our meal, shall we?"

* * *

><p><em><strong>The Burrow<strong>_

_**8:30AM**_

_**Wednesday, December 25**__**th**__**, 1998**_

"Ron, your mother's been calling us down for the last ten minutes," Hermione whispered into her fiancé's ear, crouched beside the bed. She had woken a half hour prior and was already showered and ready for the day, dressed in faded jeans and a crimson sweater. Ron had slept on after she had roused herself but Molly's tone was growing impatient and she had heard the other guests in the house going downstairs earlier. "Get up, Ronald."

"You sound like my mother," Ron grumbled, eyelids fluttering open. "Tell her I'll be down in ten minutes."

"You get five minutes," she admonished, turning to leave. "And don't you _dare_ go back to sleep or I might end up having to hex you out of bed." She missed his reply as she plodded down the stairs, stretching. Sounds of sleepy conversation drifted up to her, sentences fading behind yawns as she joined the lethargic family. Molly and Harry seemed to be the only two with any energy, the older witch fussing over everyone with cups of tea and Harry buzzing with nervous energy, just minutes away from proposing to his girlfriend.

Hermione had helped him figure out precisely how to orchestrate the proposal, hiding the small velvet box under the pile of other gifts bundled beneath the tree. They had placed it in a position that would ensure it was the last present to be picked up, hidden beneath a floppy set of dress robes Hermione had bought for her future mother-in-law. Their idea was that Ginny would get so worked up at the lack of presents from her boyfriend, only to find the ring at the very end. Harry was fearful of being humiliated in front of her family if Ginny was to reject him, but Hermione had taken a long time to assure him that she would accept so readily he would wonder why he had ever been concerned.

"S'alright, I'm here," Ron said, yawning as he came down the stairs and taking a seat next to Hermione on a sofa, tossing an arm around her shoulder. "Merry Christmas, everyone."

"Now for the good bit," Bill said and grinned wolfishly. "Presents!"

Everyone laughed and moved a little bit closer to the tree, searching for their gifts. Hermione unwrapped a lovely dress gifted to her from Harry and Ginny, Molly's usual knitted sweater and several books from the other Weasley children. Ron offered her his present in humble brown wrapping paper, a delicate gold frame with a picture of her, Ron and Harry back from their first year enclosed. She could hardly believe they looked so young and carefree, the image bringing tears to her eyes.

"What are those?" Harry asked her, pointing to two neatly wrapped gifts close to the base of the tree. Both were addressed to her though she had noticed neither when she had planted Ginny's gift the night before. "They're for you, Hermione." He reached forward and pulled them out, handing to her.

She frowned at the presents, unsure of what they could be or who they were from. One was wrapped in dark green paper with a simple silver ribbon tied around it, the other in more ostentatious glittery paper. She opened the glittery gift first and found a small jewellery box in it. She ignored Ron's question of who would be sending her such a nice present and opened the box, eyes widening at what looked to be a very expensive watch. A small note sat on top, written in a familiar scrawl:

_Merry Christmas, Hermione. I hope this isn't too much._

_Love, Theo_

It certainly _was_ too much in her eyes, particularly compared to the elegant quill and box of Honeydukes chocolates she had gifted to him, but the watch was too lovely not to wear. It glittered with every movement of the box, a timepiece more elaborate than Hermione would ever have bought for herself. Ron caught sight of the note and bristled at the sender, it taking a calming hand on his arm from Harry to soothe him.

"What about the other one?" Ginny asked, pushing the less audacious gift towards her.

Hermione found a small card with the initials _DM_ printed on it in Draco's elaborate script and she made certain to hide this note from her fiancé, knowing a gift from a Malfoy would certainly send him into a rage. "Oh," she said quietly as the paper fell away from the present, a large and very ancient book. "It can't be," she continued, more to herself than anyone else and opened up the front cover. "It _is_."

"What is it?" Ron asked, having calmed himself down. "Who's it from?"

"Daphne Greengrass," Hermione said the first safe name which came to her head, the answer seeming to satisfy Ron who went back to filtering through his own gifts. "It's the first edition of _Hogwarts: A History_. It's impossibly rare and I've never been able to find a copy, not even at the school library."

"You got me a _broom_?" Ron's voice distracted her from the book which she placed down carefully, making sure she would remember to thank Draco from the bottom of her heart the next time they ran into each other. Her fiancé pulled her close for a long kiss though he could hardly take his hands off the Firebolt 360 she had spent a fortune on for his present, insisting that they had a Quidditch match after breakfast despite the snow that was falling.

"You didn't get me _anything_!" Ginny screeched at her boyfriend, attracting the attention of everyone in the room. Harry looked over his seething girlfriend's shoulder at Hermione who was trying not to laugh as she grabbed the angry redhead, turning her to face the tree and the small velvet box which had just been revealed as Molly took up her last gift.

"Merry Christmas?" Harry said, nudging the suddenly frozen witch towards his gift. The room was silent as Ginny reached down to pick it up, her face lighting up when the box opened and the ring was revealed. "Marry me?"

Ginny dropped the box to the floor with a clatter, ring already on her finger as she flung herself into Harry's arms, knocking him back and kissing him passionately in front of her whole family. "You complete _arse_," she said when they had finished, a few of her siblings blushing at the intimate interaction as she beat a fist against his chest. "I thought you were going to ruin my Christmas."

"I'm going to take that kiss a yes," Harry grinned at her and she nodded, silent tears streaming down her cheeks. Hermione swelled with happiness at the sight of two of her best friends finally getting engaged, something they had all been anticipating for years. Congratulations bounced off the walls of the room, Molly tearing up and squeezing Harry so tightly Hermione thought his eyes might burst out of his head.

* * *

><p>"I'm exhausted," Hermione said, leaning her head against Ron's chest with a sigh. She tilted her head slightly to press her lips against his clothed torso, inhaling deeply through her nose and surrounding herself with a smell that was so very Ron. Full of sugar and peppermint and something slightly heady, salt that still clung to his skin from the intense Quidditch match that had followed breakfast. He had whooped with glee at the speed of his broom, swept her into his arms after his team had won and kissed her until she was dizzy. "It's so nice just to relax."<p>

"School must be so tough," Ron commented and she could almost taste the sarcasm in the air. His fingers paused the pattern they had been tracing along her spine, dotting up and down as they lay in the privacy of his bedroom in the apartment he shared with Harry.

"You don't think being back at Hogwarts is hard?" Hermione sat up, turning around to face him, propped on an elbow. Her brow furrowed.

"It's a lot harder in the real world," Ron said, mirroring her position so they were facing. "I'm dealing with shop openings, trying to hold down the books, publicity, advertising. My problems are a little bit bigger than your little Transfiguration essay, Hermione."

"My _little_ Transfiguration essay?" She stood up in a flash, hands on her hips, feeling her heartbeat quicken as she prepared herself for the oncoming row. When they weren't in bed, all they seemed to do was fight. The fact that their relationship was based on such a rocky foundation niggled at the back of Hermione's mind whenever another argument occured. "Are my problems are so unimportant to you? Seventh year isn't exactly a walk in the park."

Ron's face flamed as red as his hair. "Of _course_ your problems are important to me, Hermione, but I don't think they begin to compare with what I have to deal with." His voice was steadily rising. "I just don't see why you even have to go back to school after The War. You could have gotten any job you wanted!"

"Pardon me for not wanting the rest of my life handed to me on a platter." Hermione said. "I actually wanted to _work_ for something."

"I didn't take the job in the joke shop just for a laugh, Hermione. I took it so I could help my brother, and I took the Auror position because I wouldn't be able to get anything else after sacrificing this time to help George."

Hermione winced at his tone. "I know, Ron," she said quietly, trying to soothe the situation. "I know you're doing this to help your brother and I know you deserve the position as Auror. I shouldn't have said anything, but I just wanted to work for it even if you didn't get the opportunity to. You're helping George, and after everything you've been through, after everything you've lost, and you deserve everything that's given to you."

He blinked at her, eyes damp. "Fred's dead," he said, as if he hadn't truly realised it before that point. Hermione's heart stuttered; the topic of his brother's death was something they had locked away after the funeral, a subject they refused to broach, the wound still too raw. "He's never coming back." Ron sat back onto the bed, doona fluffing up around him with the soft thump.

Hermione's cheeks paled and she took a seat next to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. The anger in the air evaporated as quickly as it had arrived, melancholy taking its place. "I know, Ron," she said, rubbing small circles on his back. "I know. I miss him, too." She tilted her head, pressed her lips against his temple.

"It's not the same, though, is it? You missing him," Ron said, ignoring the salt water tracks on his face. "He was my brother."

"He was like my brother, too, Ron." She couldn't keep the hurt out of her voice. She had loved Fred the same way she loved the rest of the Weasley family and just thinking about him made her ache.

"But you didn't lose anyone like I lost him." Ron was beginning to bristle again and Hermione bit the inside of her cheek. "I lost my brother. He's dead and he's never coming back and you don't know what that's like."

"Oh," Hermione said, feeling as though someone had hit her in the stomach, all of the air in her lungs rushing out in a gasp. Her arm fell away from Ron's shoulders and into her lap. "I lost my parents, Ron." Involuntary tears burnt at her eyes.

"But they're still alive." The pain in Ron's eyes cut her to her very soul but she couldn't ignore his ignorance, his refusal to believe that she was hurting, too. "You can still see them."

"I can't, Ron. I can't go to the other side of the world just on a whim, and even if I did, they wouldn't remember me." She swallowed the lump in her throat. "They don't even know I exist."

"It still isn't the same, Hermione," Ron said, eyes dark, brooding. "Not by a long shot. You don't know what it's like to lose someone the way I lost Fred, the way I'm losing George, too."

"You honestly believe that I don't know what it's like to lose someone? That losing my parents isn't the same as you losing your brother? I'm _never _going to see them again. They're never coming back." She kept her tone quiet but her voice gained the shrill quality Ron would usually quail under.

Ron just shook his head. He was so adamant that his suffering and his loss was greater that Hermione ached, tears freely flowing down her cheeks, smudging her makeup, salt water clinging to her lips.

"I can't believe this," she said, snatching her wand up from the bedside table. "I just can't."

Her fiancé looked up at her as she twirled on the spot, disappearing from the room with a harsh _crack_.

* * *

><p>Theo was looking into the amber liquid of his Christmas dinner when a loud crack echoed in his ears. Curly hair and a tear stained face swum in his vision, a welcome sight against the drear of the Leaky Cauldron which had long since emptied for the evening.<p>

"Hermione?"

The head of his Gryffindor friend whipped around to face him completely, her mouth forming a small 'O' as she realised who it was. Then, in an unexpected movement, she tossed herself into his arms and wrapped her own around his neck, face buried into his shoulder. He moved his hands to her back hesitantly, rubbing in soothing circles, though his body betrayed his friendly gesture at her close proximity. Theo inhaled deeply, breathing in her scent of honey and roses, letting the fragrance settle and find a home in his bones.

She detached herself slowly, wiping at her face with the back of her hand. "I'm sorry," she repeated over and over again, retreating to the other side of the booth he was sitting in and taking a seat, face turned to the patchwork upholstery, sleave still smudging at her eyes. "I must look like a mess."

She _did_ look like a mess, streaks of black on the tops of her cheeks, hair flyaway and still crackling with the energy Theo associated with arguments. Her cheeks were still pink and her eyes red and glossy from her tears, but he found her wide, sad eyes to be appealing. They made her look younger, innocent. They were the only thing that remained as she fixed herself up, checking her reflection in a darkened window and smudging away the mess with her thumb.

"What are you drinking?" she asked, looking at the glass in his hand.

"Firewhiskey," he said, pushing it over to her, recognising the look in her eyes. It was a look he had possessed for most of his childhood, a desperate need to forget and lose yourself in whatever way possible. As a teenager, he had turned to alcohol, but as a young boy, he had retreated to the safety of his imagination when his father was on one of his rampages. "Take it. I'll order another round."

He could see her wince as she swallowed the remains of his drink in a single gulp, exhaling loudly as it burnt down her throat and set her stomach alight. He was tempted to order her a more girly drink, something with a strawberry flavour he knew she liked but the look on her face and the deadening appearance of her eyes made him stick with the stronger poison, carrying their glasses over to the table. She finished half of her second drink in another large gulp, only restraining herself after he gave her a stern look.

"You going to tell me what happened?" he asked, sipping slowly at his own drink. Hermione looked up at him through her eyelashes, a few of them still damp from her earlier outburst, and bit her lip. He felt his stomach flip. She ignored his intense stare and finished her drink and nodded at him.

"We had a fight," she said, reaching over to twirl the engagement ring on her finger. "And no, I don't want to talk about it. I want another drink." He opened his mouth to protest, snapping it shut when she added: "And if you don't get it for me, I'm still coherent enough that Tom will serve me."

With a reluctant sigh, Theo motioned for the bartender to bring over another glass of Firewhiskey, the wizened barkeep clearing away their dirtied glasses. He was pleased when Hermione took longer on this drink, swirling it around in the glass before taking the same measured sips he did. Neither spoke, just listened to the crackle of the fireplace, the quiet thud of their glasses landing against the table top.

There was a fourth and a fifth round of drinks before Theo noticed how intoxicated Hermione was, her short, lean stature not quite up to the drinking he was used to. She was incredibly flushed and kept opening her mouth as if to babble nonsensically at him, shutting it after a few moments. Their prolonged silence continued for a few more moments before, much to his absolute horror, she burst into tears again. He had never been one for tears, more a love them and leave them type, running as fast as his legs could take him when his witches burst into fits of sadness. But this wasn't just _any_ witch. This was the witch that made his stomach do somersaults, the one witch he was determined to have.

Their positioning, him on one side of the booth and her on the opposite side, didn't allow him to comfort her properly, so he stood and nudged her over until there was enough room for both. The barkeep looked over at the outburst and shook his head, mumbling something about overemotional ninnies as he wiped down the bar. Theo placed an arm around her shoulder and rubbed her upper arm, never having been one to comfort girls when they cried. He had always found an excuse to leave as soon as the tears started flowing, but he supposed he didn't have much choice.

"Granger? Hermione?"

She looked up at him, tears still rolling down her cheeks. Despite the tears and the sadness which so obviously enveloped her, the Firewhiskey had worked its magic on Theo's head. Its influence was all he needed to lean his head down slightly, eyes searching her face to see any sign she would back away as his lips moved closer to hers. He closed the gap, eyes shutting at the same time.

Theo restrained a grin when she kissed back firmly. Her lips tasted like strawberries and, in such close proximity to her, the smell of honey and roses was only amplified. His hands found their way to her hair, tangling themselves in the wild curls, holding her face in place as he kissed her with all the passion skill he could muster after six glasses of Firewhiskey. He had begun to thoroughly enjoy himself, previously so overwhelmed that she hadn't slapped him silly or hexed his bollocks off, just as she pulled back.

Hermione's back pressed against the wall of the bar, breathing heavy. "I can't," she said, more tears leaking from her eyes. "I'm sorry. I just can't. I don't think of you like…I need to go." He moved out of her way so she was able to clamber out of the booth, swaying on her feet when she stood. "I'm so sorry," were her last words before she made a less than graceful turn, vanishing as quickly as she had arrived.

* * *

><p>Hermione's throat seemed to close up as she landed on Ron's living room floor with a thud, ripping her stockings as she grazed her knees with a skid. She barely stumbled to her feet and fell into the kitchen, head positioned over the sink, before her stomach rejected the Firewhiskey she had consumed at the inn, spilling against the chrome surface, burning twice as much on the way back up. With it, she spat out any traces of Theo, trying to get the taste of his lips off her tongue. It took four glasses of water before she had erased all hints of him, tears racing down her cheeks.<p>

She managed to make it back to the living room and fall onto a sofa before dizziness struck her, side effects of the alcohol hitting her with the force of ten Bludgers. She could hardly stand to think of what she had done as she pulled a blanket over her body, head resting on a pile of holey cushions. There was nothing that could excuse her actions, the thoughts of what she had just done lulling her into a restless sleep.

* * *

><p>Hermione woke to a damp cloth on her forehead, thick curls tucked off her neck. She could barely open her eyes without a vicious assault on her senses though the red tinge to the room announced the curtains were closed, someone's attempt at being merciful. Her mouth was dry and the thought of movement sent her stomach flipping.<p>

"Hey." Ron was sitting at her side and he moved forward to flip the cloth over as she woke.

She swallowed deeply. "Hi," she said, throat burning. He seemed to realise what was wrong, passing her a glass of water and a small vial of Hangover Cure. She almost wanted to keep the pain in her head and the violence in her stomach, a reminder of her actions the night before, a self-inflicted consequence. Hermione felt her heart begin to fragment as she realised what she had to do. "I'm so sorry, Ron. I did something bad last night."

Even through the discolouration in the room, she could see his face lose an ounce of colour, his Adam's apple bob. "What did you do, Hermione?"

A few tears leaked out the corners of her eyes and she hated that she had become such an emotional wreck, that she let this happen so often now. "I kissed someone. Theodore Nott. I was drunk and angry and so _sad _ and he kissed me and I thought it was you," she blurted out. "I didn't want to and I regret it and I'm so sorry but you need to know."

She expected him to shatter the glass against the wall, go into a rage, storm off and leave her broken on his living room couch. But instead, Ron closed his eyes and rested his forehead against a closed fist for an instance and she was struck by his maturity. She wondered when he had grown up and why she had missed it. "This was never going to work, was it?" he said, looking back at her, eyes wet. "You at school, me working. We only ever fight when we see each other, anyway."

"Ron-," she began, voice cracking, but he held up a hand to stop her.

"I'm not angry, Hermione," he continued. "I'm tired and I want you to be happy. But I don't think I'm going to make you happy. Not right now, anyway." She tried to stifle her sob as he moved closer still, cupping her cheek in his hand. "We'll take a break. We both need to sort ourselves out. It was a bad idea getting into this so soon. Maybe in another six months or a year or a decade, we'll figure it all out. We'll come back to each other. But this isn't going to work if we're both unhappy."

"Oh, Ron," she said, ignoring the dull drumming in her head which was fast fading away as she sat up and hugged him. "I love you, Ron, and I always will. You'll always be my best friend, you know that, right?"

"Of course I do, Hermione." He held her tight for a moment and her heart snapped clean down the middle when he kissed her temple as they broke apart. "I love you, too."

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><p><strong>AN: This chapter had a lot of rewrites for me, but I'm finally somewhat happy with it. I hope you all are, too, though it was a bit more dramatic than I had initially intended. The next chapter is going to have a lot of explanations behind some of the more erratic behaviour in this one.**

**Please REVIEW!**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: This took far longer than I'd anticipated and so I apologise for that. I've had a lot of things going on, personally and career-wise, and I'm also working on a story for The Hunger Games because seeing the movie has reignited my obsession with it. Thank you again for all the reviews and alerts and favourites! Let me know what you think about this chapter. I made it extra-long to make up for its tardiness.**

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><p><em><strong>Parkes Hotel, London<strong>_

_**10:30AM**_

_**Thursday, December 26**__**th**__**, 1998**_

Ron had let her take a shower in his apartment and made her keep the engagement ring he had given her, kissing her cheek before she left, promising once again that he wasn't mad. She had apparated to a hotel near Hyde Park she had once visited with her mother on an occasion where they had treated themselves to a Girls' Weekend when she was thirteen. They had spent their time shopping and eating and going to the spa, activities Hermione usually abhorred. She booked a room for a little over a week, just enough nights to tide her over until she was to return to Hogwarts, and promptly took the lift to her suite and curled onto the duvet.

It took almost half an hour for her tears to dry up as she cradled the sparkling diamond ring in her hand. Her face felt raw and her eyes ached when she had finished, sitting up and tangling her hand through her hair. Since she was eleven, Hermione Granger had kept to a very strict plan. She was to be the best in her class, work as hard as possible, and not be distracted by anything. Even when Harry and Ron had pulled her away on their adventures, she had still found her way back. But when Ron had proposed, her plans had altered slightly.

Instead of working to a strong career, focused solely on her ideal employment opportunity, Hermione entertained the idea of marriage. She _had _ wanted to be with Ron for the rest of her life, to be his wife, to be the mother of his children. She had strayed slightly from that strict course she had stuck so rigidly to since her first letter from Hogwarts, and the train had derailed from there. The moment she had begun to follow her heart, her head had been distracted with thoughts of her fiancé. Emotions clouded her judgment so wholly that it made her dizzy. Her schoolwork, though still of the highest quality, had been completed in last minute rushes, the time she would usually devote to it instead spent talking to Ron.

With tearstained cheeks and the ring clasped so tightly in her palm that it had begun to cut into the skin, Hermione Granger vowed to return to her course, to stay away from the things that had sent her spiralling downwards before. Her heart, which had been fractured so easily just a few hours prior, was locked tightly away in her chest.

She unpacked carefully, securing all her belongings into the small wardrobe provided by the hotel until the room almost felt homey, and spread out her holiday homework across the bed. With a pot of tea brewing with a flick of her wand, she set to the task of working through the assignments and reading set by demanding professors. She had gotten a head start on the work before the break had truly begun, thinking she would be spending most of her time with Ron and wouldn't want it hanging over her head, but she was still forced to work until early evening before she could finally close her books.

Snow had begun to fall lightly over London, the streetlamps casting a soft pink glow against the white flakes. Wrapping herself in a coat and securing a scarf around her neck, beanie jammed down over her tangled curls, Hermione left the warmth of her hotel to find somewhere for dinner. There was a French restaurant around the corner, a small place which she had visited with her mother where the waiters had been kind and the food extraordinary. But as she took a seat, the host having given her a strange look when she asked for a table for one, Hermione realised the restaurant was full of couples. Some gushed over the romantic place settings, others stared across the candlelit table into their partner's eyes. She felt a bit ill as the waiter arrived with her water.

By the time she had finished her confit de canard, the restaurant had largely cleared out. She had noticed two couples leave before their mains had even be served, so wrapped up in each other that food was no longer a necessity. She deposited the last of her Muggle money on the table, leaving a generous tip for the poor waiter who had been forced to put up with her grouchy mood, and returned to the snowy London outside.

Though the stores had long since closed, window displays were scattered along the walk back to her hotel. She had never been particularly interested in fashion, tuning out Pavarti and Lavender's discussion over the new designer dress robes in _Witch Weekly_, but she recognised a lovely item when she saw one. As her boots caught in the piles of snow which had begun to collect, Hermione paused outside a large department store window, mannequin clothed in a dress that seemed to shimmer without any movement. The rest of the display was unfinished but Hermione thought it should remain that way, keep the dress the star.

It pooled around the dummy in a sheath of silver, fitting snugly to the body until it dissolved into a skirt that would form a slight train. With her eyes closed, Hermione could imagine how it would catch the light with any movement and she felt an overwhelming sense of desire for the dress, one she had only possessed when she was in her Fourth Year and found the delightful periwinkle blue dress she had worn to the Yule Ball. Her mind drifted to the still perfectly preserved invitation from Narcissa Malfoy kept in her suitcase, the perfect occasion to wear such a garment.

Aware the dress would probably cost her a small fortune, Hermione decided to venture into Diagon Alley in the morning to withdraw some money, perhaps to spend on small items, perhaps on the gown. She had been seriously considering attending Narcissa's event over dinner now that her other plans would have fallen through. Despite their decision to remain close friends, she and Ron had agreed that they both needed some space before launching back into any sort of relationship, platonic or not, and so she had offered to do something else on New Year's Eve and allow him to enjoy celebrations with his family.

By the time she had returned to her hotel, snow settled on her shoulders and head in the clouds, Hermione had decided she would write to Draco and tell him she would attend his event, despite the awkwardness that would ensue with Theo. Her throat constricted for a moment, dreading having to walk through the halls of Malfoy Manor again. She reminded herself that if she began to feel ill or even react as badly as she had when the invitation had first been delivered that she could leave instantly.

After a hot shower and a pot of tea, wrapped in the hotel's complimentary dressing gown, she penned a short note to Draco and slipped it into her handbag, making a mental note to post it when she was in Diagon Alley the next day.

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><p><em><strong>Malfoy Manor<strong>_

_**5:30PM**_

_**Friday, December 27**__**th**__**, 1998**_

_Draco,_

_I know it's late notice and I'm absolutely certain your mother has enough on her plate without the added stress of another guest, but would it be possible for me to attend her event on New Year's Eve? My other plans have fallen through and I really don't want to spend the evening by myself._

_Love,_

_Hermione_

_P.S. Thank you __so__ much for the Christmas present! I absolutely love it._

Draco knew it to be common practice for people to throw around the L-word with friends, and he was also aware that he was nowhere near that level of infatuation with the brainy witch, but it was still a term he had come across so rarely in his life and never failed to bring pink to his cheeks. He smiled again at her postscript and how pleased he had been to find a first edition of _Hogwarts: A History_ entirely untouched in his family's library. It had taken some quick convincing of his mother with promises that it would win the Gryffindor over before he had been able to send it off.

He was also quite enamoured with the present Hermione had given him, a very rare book which held the diary entries of Mungo Bonham. He had spent most of his time since Christmas Day poring over the book, memorising its ancient pages and learning all the secrets of the great Healer. Having searched for the same book many times amongst the stacks of Flourish & Blotts, Whizz Hard Books, and even venturing into the often kooky Obscurus Books to find a copy. Each time he had been unsuccessful, finding the same copies of well-known diary entries, but never the rare journals penned by Bonham. He would make sure to question her when she came for the dinner over New Year's Eve.

He wrote a short reply, assuring Hermione that her presence was more than welcome though ensuring he didn't sound too eager in the process and sent it off using the same owl which had delivered her letter to him. The bird was a stock-standard barn owl, the kind used at the post office and the Owlery at school. It was nothing like Weasley's pathetic excuse for an owl. Draco had seen the small ball of feathers flutter around excitedly in the Great Hall when post had been delivered and he had heard its constant high-pitched twittering once or twice this year when Hermione had received mail. For a minute he wondered why she would be sending mail through an unfamiliar owl, mind racing through many preferable possibilities. Disgruntled, he settled on the idea that Weasley was sending some of his own mail and that the small owl couldn't carry more than a single slip of parchment without plummeting out of the sky.

The barn owl swept out of the open window with an elaborate spread of its wings and Draco checked he was presentable before going on a hunt for his mother. He followed the smell of fear that emanated off the help she had hired to set up the event, wizards and witches shuffling in, levitating tables and chairs and trying to place them around the ballroom of the East Wing to Narcissa's ever-changing standards.

"Draco, darling, unless you have very good news I suggest you go back to your room," she said when he tapped her on the shoulder, eyeing the clipboard and Quick Notes quill which hovered beside her. He saw that she had ticked off catering, flowers and music, but there were at least three other pages of requirements yet to be finalised.

"I think you'll see it as good news. Hermione has decided to come to your dinner, after all," he said, cringing as she neglected responding to him in favour of yelling at a wizard who had placed his table two inches too far right.

"That's wonderful news, dear," she smiled fleetingly and returned to scrutinising the last of the set-up. She gave a triumphant "Hah!" as the tables fell into perfect alignment. They were spaced with complete accuracy, allowing people to move easily throughout the room even in the busiest periods of movement during the evening. She ticked the box on her clipboard with a large check. "But you'll have to figure out where she's sitting, Draco. I simply haven't got the time to look over the seating chart again."

She pulled it out from under the pages of notes she was carrying, handing the card to him. His eyes focused on the table where he was to be sitting with Blaise, Daphne, and Ted, two seats spare. One was for Ted's date and the other his own and his trademark smirk crept along his face as he reorganised the seats. At its completion, the chart read that Theo was to wedged between Draco and an empty seat, barely able to even look at Hermione whilst they were all seated. The Gryffindor would be between Blaise and himself and Draco was certain he could capture her attentions for the whole evening, not allowing Theo a word in edgeways.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Malfoy Manor<strong>_

_**7:30PM**_

_**Tuesday, December 31**__**st**__**, 1998**_

Hermione's body shimmered in the glow of the crystal chandelier, silver gown pooling at her feet in a soft train. She kept her eyes to the floor as she waited to stumble upon someone she might know, watching her shoes disappear under the piles of silk she dragged around.

"Hermione!"

It was Daphne's voice which pulled her to their mutual friends, the Slytherin girl beaming. She looked more elegant than ever, hair pulled into a tight chignon and a black dress hugging her body, contrasting flawlessly with her porcelain skin and light hair.

"Blaise proposed!" she said, drawing Hermione's eye to her main accessory, a glittering diamond ring. The rock was perfectly cut in a classic shape with a very ornately carved silver band holding the piece together. Hermione thought it truly was the loveliest ring she had ever seen and jealousy made her stomach drop for a few seconds. "Isn't it just exquisite?"

"Oh, congratulations, Daphne." Hermione kissed her friend's cheek and hugged her for a few seconds, smiling at Blaise over Daphne's shoulder. He looked as though he could hardly believe his luck, eyes never wavering from the blonde. The couple had been sitting with Draco and Theo, who both rose at her arrival. Draco offered her one of his rare smiles and Theo's lips twitched, cheeks red. She was dreading having _that_ conversation.

"How have your holidays been?" Blaise asked smoothly as Draco helped her into her chair and slid a glass of champagne to her. The lovebirds held hands atop the table and her left hand felt naked without her ring.

"Alright," she replied, sipping from her flute. She supposed that it was time for her to let go of the engagement even if it had only ended a handful of days ago, that there was no use in pretending everything was peachy keen. "I've spent the last few days in a hotel in Muggle London?"

"With Ronald?" Daphne asked, pretty features pinching into a frown when Hermione shook her head. "Why not?"

After a rather large gulp of champagne, her glass now half empty, Hermione held up her left hand and wiggled her fingers around. "We're taking a break. Or whatever is the nicest way to say we broke up."

With her eyes trained on her glass, Hermione missed Draco's reaction to her side, how his face momentarily lit up at her words, only to smooth over into their usual cool mask a half second later. From the corner of her eye, Hermione caught the edge of Theo's face looking very guilty, eyes cast to the floor. Daphne reached over to pat her arm gently, offering apologies which Hermione brushed away, assuring her it was a mutual decision, that she didn't need outrageous amounts of ice cream.

She changed the topic to Blaise and Daphne's romantic holiday away, getting all the details of the proposal out of the pair. Daphne and her beau were more than happy to oblige. Their conversation carried through dinner, a sumptuous five course meal designed entirely by Narcissa. At its conclusion, with two hours until the countdown began, dancing started in a large space close to an elaborate band. Daphne begged Theo to dance with her after Blaise refused. He promised his fiancé a dance when he was slightly more intoxicated, pouring himself another glass of champagne as she and Theo disappeared into the crowd.

"You two can go off an entertain yourselves, if you wish," Blaise said, sharing a look with Draco. "I won't be particularly entertaining."

"Would you like a tour of the house, then?" Draco directed his question to Hermione. "We would avoid certain areas, of course."

"A tour sounds lovely. I wouldn't mind some peace and quiet," she said, letting him help her to her feet.

With a hand resting softly in the crook of Draco's elbow, Hermione let him lead the way from the grand room and into the cool hush of the Manor. The music was left behind the ballroom doors with the heating charms and Hermione tried to hide a shiver, but the tremor was caught by her companion's keen eyes.

Before she could protest, Draco slung his suit jacket over her shoulders in lieu of performing a simple heating charm. The intimate, gentlemanly gesture send a light blush to her cheeks and she thanked Godric that the lighting was low. Their tour began with a visit to the Rose Parlour, so named for its delicate pink walls and a vase of white roses which Narcissa kept alive magically, Draco informed her. Each room was more decadent than the last but they remained lovely in Hermione's eyes. She felt her breath get taken away with every detail Draco pointed out, the extraordinary lengths his mother had gone to with her decorating scheme.

As they visited parlours and quaint sitting rooms and two games rooms, Hermione could scarcely believe that this was the same Malfoy Manor she had paid her unfortunate visit to just a few months earlier. While she could just remember dark stone and a dank smell of her time with Bellatrix, what she saw was the complete opposite. Each room was full of warm tones and hardwood floors, rugs on every floor, plush couches reminding her more of the Gryffindor Common Room than the Dungeons of Hogwarts. She felt herself growing to adore the house as Draco led her about.

But, out of the whole East Wing of Malfoy Manor, it was the final room that floored her.

Draco had spoken of his family's private library, the vast collection of books it boasted, but this _had_ to be larger than even the library at Hogwarts. There were floor to wall bookshelves with tomes on every subject she could think of, magical and Muggle. Fiction and non-fiction texts were scattered about and alcoves were placed sporadically throughout the room with plush seats and large fireplaces. Kicking off her shoes to enable a quicker pace, Hermione disappeared between the stacks.

* * *

><p>Draco started a fire in an alcove close to the back with a glorious view of his family's estate, using his wand to light a few candles and lanterns to give the area a cosy orange glow. Hermione unceremoniously dropped her shoes to the floor with a clatter. He let her explore, trailing behind to hold the books she piled into his arms as they roamed. He promised to let her borrow all the books she wished at the evening's conclusion when they returned to their fireplace and realised there was just a half hour until the midnight countdown. She instructed him to place the stack of books on the coffee table and settled herself on the loveseat, tucking her legs beside her on the settee.<p>

Draco joined her, stretching his limbs out. "Stop me if you believe I'm out of line," he said, angling his torso towards her, "but why did you and Weasley end it?"

She took a few moments to answer, looking into the hearth. Draco continued to watch her face, how the light flickered against her exquisite bone structure, the way her tongue lightly wet her lips before she spoke. "Long distance didn't agree with us," she said. "We've always argued, ever since the day we met. But it was just that when we would see each other on whatever rare occasion, the whole event would just be spoiled by our fights. We just weren't ready for it."

He could tell there was something more, a piece of information she was holding back. "And?" he prompted.

Hermione nibbled on her lower lip for a couple of seconds before responding and Draco realised he might not _want _to know. "I did something really stupid," she admitted. "We had a fight on Christmas night and I was so angry and I just had to get away from him. I went to the Leaky Cauldron just to be by myself but Theo was there."

Draco felt as though he had been whacked in the stomach by a Bludger.

"And I had quite a bit of Firewhiskey and I was just so upset. I don't know what I was thinking…I mustn't have been thinking, I suppose. But I kissed him," she said. His vision seemed blurred but he could still see how the colour had drained from her face, how her lips puckered down at the corners. "Just once," she added quickly, "and it wasn't very nice. I had been crying and I just wanted someone to comfort me. When I realised what I was doing, I stopped immediately and went back to Ron's. I told him what happened the next morning and we agreed it wasn't working between us."

"And Theo?" Draco was barely able to choke the words out, unable to keep up even the faintest trace of his usual demeanour.

She blinked at him, eyes wide. "I haven't talked to him since, not even tonight, if you didn't notice at dinner. I don't have those sort of feelings for him."

Draco felt his lungs inflate, his shoulders slump slightly with the relief that washed over him. Hermione stood and he watched as her bared legs disappear under the long layers of fabric that moved around her body in an elegant dance. She moved close to the large window in their alcove, looking out upon the grounds. Her body too far away for their conversation to continue with any ease, Draco joined her beside the window, placing his hands a few inches away from hers on the sill.

"Do you know why most Western cultures dictate that people should kiss at the stroke of midnight?" she asked, continuing when he shook his head. "Tradition says that if a person remains without a kiss, the coming year will be full of bad luck and loneliness. There's a particular Scottish celebration which I attended when I was eight where, when the clock strikes twelve, you're supposed to try and kiss as many people in the room as possible. I was chased around by one boy until nearly one o'clock after I refused to kiss him. He insisted I was going to curse him with so much bad luck it'd make his head spin."

She finished seconds before a burst of light shone outside the window, the first firework of the New Year shimmering against the starry sky. In perfect synchronization, they turned to face each other.

"Happy New Year, Draco," she said. He watched colours and light glitter across her cheeks, the whole room illuminated from the fireworks

"Happy New Year, Hermione."

Draco leaned down hesitantly, watching her expression, ready to pull back at the first sign that would impose humiliation upon him. And maybe it was the champagne at dinner that did it, or perhaps the warmth of the fire they were bathed in, but something prompted her to rise onto her toes, closing the gap between them.

Later in life, Draco would look back on that evening as one of the most glorious nights of his life and his first kiss with Hermione Granger would rank in the Top Three Kisses In History. Her lips were soft and hesitant against his at first, slightly sticky from the light sheen of gloss she was wearing. But they were sweet and warm and tasted of strawberries and he felt dizzy when her hands snaked into his hair. He kissed her more passionately then, hoping the moment would never end, believing that if he died in that very second then he would die a very happy wizard.

It ended all too soon for him, Hermione breaking off the kiss with the end of the fireworks display at two minutes past midnight. He wondered if he had made her cheeks flush so brilliantly or if the fire was too warm, but the O her mouth formed, corners turned upwards, made him swell slightly with pride.

"That was…" Hermione said, bringing her hand to her lips to touch against them briefly. Draco watched her eyes dance and sparkle, chest heaving as she breathed in and out quickly. "Oh."

"Happy New Year," he bade again. "If that was too much for you then I apologise," he added when she remained frozen on the spot, hand still pressed to her lips. His own tingled in response to their exchange and his face felt warm, stomach fluttering lightly with happiness.

"No," she said. "It wasn't too much. I just don't know if I should have done it." His face must have mirrored the drop of his stomach because she quickly amended her statement. "No, I don't mean it like that. But I just broke up with Ron. Less than a week ago, I was sure I'd found the person I was going to spend the rest of my life with. I was so ready to marry him. And then I went and kissed Theo and who knows if _that_ friendship will recover, and now I've gone and messed things up between us."

Draco had never seen Hermione look so flustered, eyes brimming with unshed tears, words spilling out in jumbled messes. "Do you regret it?" he asked her.

A few moments of silence passed between them, broken only by the crackling of the fire. "No."

"Neither do I," Draco said. He paused for almost a full minute, staring into the hearth and choosing his next words with precision. "You must be aware of how I feel about you by now. That kiss only solidified my feelings. If you don't have the same attachment towards me, I'll understand completely. I will leave you in peace and I won't pressure you to do anything. I'm willing to give you as much time as you need to figure out what you're feeling and where you want to go with your life. All I ask for is that, no matter what, our friendship remains."

She looked at him with teary eyes, a few racing down her cheeks at his words. He restrained himself from reaching forward to brush the drops of salt water away. "Of course," she said and stepped forward to hug him, surprise knocking him back a step before he came to his senses and wrapped his arms around her. There had been very little physical contact between them in their relationship, but as he held her for those few seconds, Draco was amazed at how perfectly they seemed to fit together.

"Thank you," he said quietly. "We should get back to the ballroom before my mother sends out a search party." He handed her the shoes she had abandoned so carelessly upon their arrival in the library, waiting beside the window as she readjusted the straps and did up the small buckle. Draco kept his eyes on her as nimble fingers fixed the shoes to her feet, replaying their kiss in his mind. The taste of strawberries still lingered on his lips as she stood and fixed her hair with a few small pats.

As her heels clicked their way out of the library, Draco slinging on his jacket, Hermione groaned. When he tilt his head as a means of inquiry, she sighed. "What are your friends going to think?" she said as he helped her down the stairs, her hand once again resting in the crook of his arm. A few guests were milling about in the corridors, taking a breather from the raucous dancing which would no doubt be taking place in the ballroom.

"You probably don't want to know," he admitted. Blaise would no doubt be thinking Draco had simply leapt into bed with the Gryffindor. The Italian wizard had made it clear he and Daphne were trying to get Draco some alone time with Hermione, Daphne dragging Ted to the dance a neatly orchestrated plan. His other best mate would certainly be furious at him and spurred on by jealousy though he would never try to create a scene in the middle of his mother's celebration.

As he predicted, when the large doors to the ballroom swung open, the pair were nearly knocked backwards by the loud music. It was a fast waltz, Draco recognising it as one of his mother's favourites. Elaborate dresses twirled around the dance floor led by dapper gentlemen. He sensed Hermione's unwillingness to dance and instead led her back to their table where Daphne and Blaise were sitting, both looking weary. They were collecting their things, preparing themselves to leave.

"I should probably go home, too," Hermione said, picking up the small bag she had abandoned on the table prior to their walk.

"I'll walk you all out," Draco offered, letting Daphne and Hermione take the lead as he lagged behind, waiting for Blaise to finish pretending to tie his shoe. "Take any longer with that and I won't tell you anything."

"So something _did_ happen," Blaise clarified, raising an eyebrow. He had taken on the same tone he used whenever Draco would have to sneak back into the Slytherin Common Room after a late party, hair ruffled and grinning like a fool, though Draco's stories would never quite live up to his expectations.

"You sound like a fourteen year old Hufflepuff." Draco rolled his eyes and tucked his hands into his pockets as they walked out of the room, Daphne and Hermione ten paces in front and talking quietly. Draco could see Daphne's excitement in her smile, Hermione no doubt opening up to her about what had just occurred in the library. "We snogged. Once."

It took Draco three steps to realise Blaise had stopped. "You snogged _once_? But you two were gone for hours. How could you only get one snog in there?"

"I don't know, maybe because she just ended things with her fiancé?" Draco asked sarcastically. "And keep your voice down." Blaise just rolled his eyes but clapped Draco on the back in congratulations. "Where's Ted?"

"Want to rub it in his face?" Blaise asked. "He went off with some witch after you and Granger disappeared. He looked pissed, Drake. Have fun dealing with the backlash from that one." The Italian wizard quickened his pace and wrapped an arm around his fiancé as they reached the apparition safe-zone for the evening. He smirked at Hermione and offered a cheeky, "Later, Granger," before they disappeared with a crack.

"You told him?" Hermione asked, rounding on him. Draco put his hands up defensively, identifying the almost audible crackle of anger in her hair.

"He's my best mate, Granger," Draco said. "What does it really matter? You told Daphne who would have told Blaise everything the second they got back to his place. Besides, it won't amount to anything, anyway, so it's not like him knowing can do much damage, if any at all."

"You don't know it won't amount to anything," she said, crossing her arms bossily. After a few moments she gave a resolute sigh and let her arms drop to her sides, stepping closer to him. "I don't want to end tonight on a sour note. I've had enough fighting to last me ten lifetimes and tonight was so nice that I don't want to spoil it. I had an amazing time, so thank you."

To his shock again, she hugged him once more. But the real surprise came when she rocked unsteadily on her toes to kiss his cheek lightly. He wanted to turn his head slightly, to pull her in for another kiss as explosive as the one they had shared in the library at the toll of midnight, but instead he let her pull away when she wished.

"Goodnight, Granger," he said as she moved away and vanished from sight.

* * *

><p><em><strong>London Aquarium<strong>_

_**11:00AM**_

_**Friday, January 3**__**rd**__**, 1999**_

Hermione tucked her hands deeper into the pockets of her coat, bracing against the bitter wind of London's winter. She had written to Draco the day before, having devoted the previous forty-eight hours to figuring out her feelings, compartmentalising them and creating several lists of pros and cons, and she wanted to get this all over with before school resumed on the Monday. Her foot tapped an unsteady rhythm against icy pavement, an unconscious movement to keep warm.

She was unexperienced when it came to relationships. Her experience with males only spanned two men (three if she counted Cormac but she often decided to discount him in her tally) and neither had been entirely conventional relationships. Becoming involved with a world renowned Quidditch player in her fourth year had been one of the more erratic decisions of her life, though she had found Viktor charming and handsome in his own unique way. They had been surrounded by press and forced to keep their relationship a secret, conversing only through letters until she had been able to sneak away of the summer period to Bulgaria. Her relationship with Ron had been tumultuous from the start with her love-hate relationship for the redhead which only culminated in a proper coupledom when he kissed her out of the blue in the Final Battle and they ended up engaged just a handful of weeks later.

With such little experience under her belt, she was never sure how to address situations like this. Viktor had been the first to display any interest in her and since then the tally of suitors remained short. It wasn't as though Hermione thought herself unattractive, but more that she had never believed herself to be desirable by any standard. Viktor's interest had brought about a schoolgirl crush, Cormac's had made her feel self-conscious and frustrated at his persistence, and Ron's was just a shock. Now, having both Draco _and _Theo interested in her was just confusing and only served to add to her teetering pile of things to fret over.

"Why are we meeting here, Granger?"

She jumped at the sound of Draco's voice in her ear and whirled around to face him, the shock warming her up a few degrees. "You scared the life out of me," she said, placing a hand on her heart in an exaggerated flourish. "Do you want to go inside? It's one of my favourite places."

He quirked a brow at her but gestured for her to lead the way with a light touch on her lower back. She bit her lip in an attempt to distract herself from the physical contact, nibbling it as they made their way to the ticket booth. Draco passed her a quizzical look as she passed over the Muggle money to the teller and she was certain the mass of notes made no sense to her companion as they took their tickets and shuffled through.

"What _is_ this place?" Draco asked, staring at the Muggles who swarmed about as they peered into tanks. He moved towards the interactive part of the aquarium, where small children stood on their toes to run their fingers along coral or pick up delicate starfish. Draco looked over their heads and frowned. "Is this what Muggles do for fun?"

She grabbed his arm and tugged him away through the crowds and into one of the less frequently visited exhibitions. The room held a large tank against one wall, fish lazily bobbing along in the blue water, the occasional tropical fish gliding, showing off for the visitors. "It's an aquarium, Draco. They put all sorts of aquatic life in here and people are able to come and look at the animals they wouldn't normally be able to see," Hermione explained. "Out there, where all the children were, was where people can touch some of the animals, like starfish. I came here when it first opened in 1997 with my parents, just before…"

Hermione ignored Draco's questioning glance as she took a seat in front of the tank, not enthusiastic about the idea of discussing her parents. "I wanted to talk to you about the other night," she said, gesturing for him to join her. He sat beside her on the bench, legs crossed at the knee. "And you're just going to have to let me blurt it all out or else I'll never say it, and I really need to get it off my chest for the sake of my own sanity." Draco waved his hand in a gesture for her to continue, eyes on the tank as marine life bobbed along.

"I'm not very good at this," she continued. "Feelings, I mean. I have no problem with brewing complex potions or tricky wandwork, but as soon as it comes to emotions, I suppose I'm a complete novice, particularly those with romantic inclinations. I don't know how I feel about you. There's attraction on some obvious level, but I think that there may be something deeper to my feelings towards you. However, at this point in time, I'm not prepared to act on them. I just broke up with my fiancé, I'm a complete mess from The War, and I have far too much work to focus on having another relationship which would no doubt end up tumultuous. Plus, as much as you may have changed, others may not see it as clearly as I do, and I'm not willing to sacrifice friendships on endeavours of the heart just yet."

"So, what you're saying is that we're just going to be friends," Draco surmised. Hermione noticed his eyes were cold and focused firmly on the fish tank, refusing to even glance at her. "Fine."

"That's _not_ what I'm saying, Draco," she said, taking a chance and reaching across to squeeze his hand. The contact made him look at her for a few seconds, a glimmer of something she thought must be hope in his eyes. "I'm attracted to you, but I'm not going to dive into another relationship right now." She released his hand, placing her own back in her lap. "But if you give me some time, things may change. And for now, I don't want to lose you as a friend."

She neglected to mention how she had dreamt of him for the last two nights, how the kiss they had shared had been the most explosive of her life no matter how inexperienced she was in that particular department. There was no mention of how he made her stomach flutter or just how attractive she found him or even how much she simply loved his company. Hermione had made a promise to herself that she was to lock her heart away in a vault and Merlin be damned, she was not about to break that vow less than a fortnight later.

Draco nodded and stood in a fluid motion, holding a hand out to help her up. "I said the other night that I would respect your decision," he said, pulling Hermione to her feet. "I also said that I'm willing to wait, and I still am. Until you're ready, Hermione."

She shivered at his use of her given name, so used to how he usually addressed her by her last. Catching a smirk on his face at her reaction, Hermione slapped him lightly on the arm. "You can't be an arse about this, okay?"

"I'm always an arse to you," he countered.

"Not always," she muttered, leading him out of the room and into the interactive part of the aquarium. She would have liked to spend the day there, like she had with her parents on that outing that seemed a lifetime ago, but spending any more time with Draco would have given him the wrong impression, of that she was sure. Hermione may not have had much knowledge of relationships, but she had good intuition and common sense.

The cold weather licked at their skin again as they emerged back onto the icy street. "I should go. I'm supposed to be meeting Blaise and Ted for lunch," Draco said. "See you at school, Granger."

Hermione had gathered that Draco was unfamiliar with hugs, particularly shocked by her embraces, but that didn't stop her from wrapping her arms around him in farewell. "Goodbye, Draco."

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><p><strong>AN: Let me know what you think in a REVIEW.**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Another chapter for you all! Let me know what you think by reviewing. I love to hear what you all have to say about this fic.**

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><p><em><strong>The Great Hall<strong>_

_**8:30AM**_

_**Wednesday, January 8**__**th**__**, 1999**_

**Golden Couple No More?  
><strong>Have Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley ended their relationship after just a few short months?

_The wizarding world's golden couple, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley, who announced their engagement in August of last year, have called it quits, it seems. Though neither have confirmed nor denied these rumours, sources say that Miss Granger, who is currently repeating her seventh year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, is no longer wearing the engagement ring she received in the summer. Other sources site that the two attended different New Year's Eve celebrations, Miss Granger attending Narcissa Malfoy's prestigious charity dinner. (See photo inset for pictures of Hermione Granger's evening and outfit.)_

_Though reports say the brunette arrived at the event without a date, rumours have been flying around that she escaped with the young Malfoy heir before the clock struck midnight. The couple reappeared soon after and Miss Granger proceeded to leave Malfoy Manor as the celebration began to wind down. Could this be the beginning of a new relationship? _

_Meanwhile, the talented witch's former beau, Ronald Weasley, attended a small family gathering to bring in the New Year. Both have declined comment on the status of their relationship though they seemed on amicable – though far from romantic – terms when the two war heroes ran into each other on Platform 9 and ¾ when Mr Weasley was farewelling his younger sister._

_But with the possible end of one relationship comes the engagement of two of the wizarding world's other favourite people. Ginevra Weasley, long-time love interest of war hero Harry Potter, has been seen wearing a rather large ring on her left hand. Could wedding bells be on the horizon for the boy who defeated the Darkest wizard of our age? For a look at the progression of these two relationships, turn to pages 4-8._

Hermione's hands tightened on the paper as she watched the moving image of her walking away on Draco's arm, laughing at something he had said. It replayed three times before Ginny came to her senses and snatched the paper away.

"Everyone's looking at me," Hermione groaned, dropping her face to her hands.

Indeed, many students were turning in their seats to look at the brunette who appeared to be reading some very fine print on the palm of her hands. Ginny placed a soft hand on her friend's back and tried to move it in soothing circles. "Not everyone," she said. "Just the people who have read the Prophet this morning."

"You're not helping, Gin."

"The important people know what _really_ happened and that's what matters. You told Ron and Harry the truth and I know what you did, so what should it matter that the rest of the school thinks you've gone off and had a hot romp with a snake?"

Hermione tilted her head and looked out of her hands at her best girlfriend. "I'm _Head Girl_, Ginny. What I do, even when I'm off school grounds, matters. I can't _believe _I didn't think that there would be cameras there."

"There are cameras wherever you go, Hermione. Wherever any of us go, you, me, Harry and Ron. It doesn't matter what everyone else thinks, as long as you're happy," Ginny said, continuing the small circles on Hermione's back.

As Ginny's comforting words began to sink in and Hermione sat up a little straighter, a small group of Ravenclaw second years who were whispering amongst themselves looked across to the Gryffindors and burst into a fit of laughter. Hermione groaned and pushed away her breakfast. "This is all making me feel ill. I'm going back to my dormitory."

She heard Ginny calling out after her, reminding her that she still had classes no matter her status in the social pages, but they fell away as she emerged into the Entrance Hall of Hogwarts. Among the students who had not had time for breakfast yet, she was still anonymous, slipping easily between packs of people and up the staircases until she reached her dormitory. The door closed behind her and she shed her cloak, draping it over the back of a couch. Crookshanks looked up at her curiously through one yellow eye but she ignored her familiar in lieu of pulling out the books she had stuffed into her bag earlier that morning.

Arithmancy and Ancient Runes were her first two classes of the day, both subjects where she was paired with Draco and the rumour would have even more of a chance to run rampant. Instead, she lay out her books on her living room floor and decided to work along with the rest of the class in the comfort and privacy of her own dormitory.

But it didn't take long for distraction to arrive, her quill making lazy loops on the edge of her parchment rather than working on a complex prediction for her first subject. She had found herself prone to these fits of daydream since the kiss she had shared with Draco a week earlier. The exchange would replay in her mind and Hermione would go on to imagine what may have occurred had she not pulled back and returned to her hotel. She would rouse herself out of these with a violent shake, forcing her concentration back to whatever task was at hand, though her mind would stay back at the library of Malfoy Manor.

Though she refused to admit it to herself, a niggling part at the back of her mind was consistently trying to remind her that she had not been entirely truthful when she announced her feelings to Draco at the aquarium. She was _certain_ that there was a much deeper level of attraction towards him that extended far beyond the mere physical attraction she felt whenever he was around. They had connected mentally through their studies and emotionally in the sharing of the traumas they had experienced but never spoken about with anyone else. There was a connection of sorts there, something she had felt with Ron but had been so small that it fizzled out within just a few months.

Whilst she and her fiancé had bonded over their adventures and the seven years of friendship between them, there was no mental connection there, or at least not one on the same level. She and Ron had never been able to have intellectual discussions like the ones she exchanged with Draco. Instead, her ex-fiancé had acted like a goofball, distracting her from her work and making her laugh with his loveable messing about. Emotionally, Hermione had only seen his range expand from that of a small spoon after the death of his brother, and it seemed it was only when Fred was the topic of conversation that Ron would show any emotion.

Hermione only realised how far away from her work distraction had taken her when she had nibbled clean through the top of her quill, spurting ink onto her cheek. "Bugger!" she said, tossing the broken feather into the bin on her way to the bathroom to wash away the black stain as it dried on her skin. Filling the sink with hot water and snatching a washcloth from the counter, she scrubbed at the stain until her skin was red and there was the faintest shadow left of the splotch. A look at her watch told her she had wasted almost the whole morning with very little work done, instead focusing on her not-relationship with a particular Slytherin.

She dropped the washcloth in a soggy pile on the bench and rubbed her cheek softly with her fingertips in an attempt to calm the sore skin. Ducking into the kitchenette, Hermione filled the kettle with water and put it on the stove to boil, sensing a cup of tea may help her concentrate on the piles of work she had neglected in the past almost two hours.

"I told the professors you were sick." Draco's smooth voice from her living room startled Hermione and she jumped, wand withdrawn and pointing in his direction. He held up his hands, palms towards her. "I surrender, Granger."

"What are you doing here?" she asked, levitating another teacup out of the cupboard and setting it on a tray. It took her a few moments to gather the gravity of Draco sneaking into her dormitory on a day when she was supposed to be too ill to attend classes and she nearly dropped the whistling kettle. "Were you followed? Did anyone _see_ you?"

Draco raised his eyebrows. "What?"

"The Daily Prophet! Didn't you see it this morning?" Hermione asked, carrying the tray over to where she had been studying and placing it on the coffee table. She pulled out a copy of the paper which had been delivered to her room and unfolded it, showing her companion the large spread on the front page of her disintegrating relationship. She didn't have the heart to open it to page four where she was certain there would be an elaborate flowchart, no doubt designed by Rita Skeeter or some equally as charming reporter about how her relationship with Ron was doomed to fail from the start. "You coming in here at all hours of the day isn't exactly going to help with quashing the rumours."

"Please, Granger," he said and took the paper from her, rolling it up. "The Daily Prophet is more gossipy than Witch Weekly these days. Since The War ended, nobody wants grim stories about what's really happening in the world. It's just turned into gossip and rumour."

"That doesn't mean people won't believe it."

"You're far too concerned with what other people think of you," Draco said, crossing his legs and resting his cup and saucer on thigh. "Besides, no one _really_ cares about you at the moment. It's all about your little redhead girlfriend and Potter at the moment. Whatever people think happened with us will blow over by the end of the week."

"How can you be so calm about this?" she asked. "What would your father say?"

Hermione saw Draco stiffen, his foot which had been bouncing up and down slightly still. "I couldn't give a damn what he thinks," he said, returning his empty teacup to the tray on the table. "Unlike you, I don't care what other people think of me. If I did, I'd never get along with the rest of my life after The War. Death Eater, remember?"

She opened her mouth, trying to figure out a worthy response, but realised Draco was right and she wanted to hex the smirk off his face. "Damn it, Draco," she sighed. "You're too rational."

"Just one of my many quality attributes." He stretched himself out and glanced at the clock on the wall. "If you plan on coming out of your Head Girl cave anytime today, Potions starts in five minutes and it'd be the perfect opportunity."

_Potions_.

Potions meant publicly walking through the halls of the castle with Draco, spending an hour sitting in the frigid dungeons with Theo watching her. She hadn't built up the supposed Gryffindor courage which seemed to evade her when it came to the difficult conversations. They had sat through their double Transfiguration lab the day before in tense silence and as soon as the final bell tolled, Theo had been out of there like the classroom was alight. During their Potions lessons, Hermione had felt his gaze upon her back as she worked alongside Draco, but he had quickly looked away as soon as she turned to face him.

"I thought Gryffindors were meant to be brave," Draco teased. "We need to work on our potion, Granger."

With a large sigh, Hermione sent the tray with their teacups to the sink and rose to her feet. Draco mirrored his actions as she collected her cloak, pulling it around her shoulders and clasping it at the collar. "Fine. Let's go, then," she said, going to reach for her books. Draco had already collected them into a neat pile, holding them out of her reach when she went to take them away.

"You're supposed to be sick, remember?" He lifted the books up again as she made another attempt to reach for them. "What sort of friend would I be if I let you lug this ridiculous number of books around? Why _do_ you have so many books, anyway? We have one class before lunch starts and as far as I'm aware, we don't need any of the assigned textbooks for it."

"I like to be prepared," Hermione said, pushing him out of the painting hole that lead to her dormitory. He stumbled in an over exaggerated gesture and she rolled her eyes. "We're going to be late, Malfoy."

"You're such a stickler for punctuality, Granger. You need to loosen up a little."

"_You're_ such an arse," Hermione said, quickening her pace. But Draco, who had a few good inches on her, the length of which seemed to be entirely in his legs, caught up in an instant as she started down the stairs to the dungeons. The chatter of their classmates greeted them when they reached the door to the classroom, a few turning their heads at their arrival. Hermione felt her face flush slightly at the attentions and finally snatched her books out of Draco's arms when he settled beside her.

Slughorn chose that moment to arrive, ushering the students into the room before any guesses could be made as to why Draco was carrying her books. Hermione caught the look Ginny was giving her and raised her eyebrows, a silent action to tell her she would explain everything later.

"Ah, Miss Granger," the professor said when she took her seat at the front of the room. "I've heard from my fellows that you were feeling ill this morning. All better now, I hope?"

"Yes, Professor Slughorn," she said and nodded. "I got a migraine at breakfast and needed to lie down for a few hours until it passed."

"Very well," the round man nodded and moved behind his desk, instructing the class to go about their plans of working on their potions.

As Draco lay out the equipment they would need, Hermione ducked off to the storeroom to gather the last few ingredients required to apply the finishing touches to their brew. They had planned to test the concoction on the weekend, Draco volunteering to try the first batch on Sunday morning. Hermione would record any adverse reactions to the potion and monitor the healing of scar tissue on his back as they camped out in her dormitory, and there were just three more ingredients that needed to be cooked down in the cauldron before they could claim completion.

"Sorry," Hermione mumbled, walking straight into the back of the student entering the storeroom before her.

"It's just few broken bones, no big deal," Theo said, turning around to give her a strained grin. She felt her mouth form an 'O' but at least a shred of her Gryffindor courage remained, keeping her from escaping back to the desk where Draco was still setting up. "How's your potion going?"

"Teddy, I'm sorry," Hermione blurted out, ignoring how he cringed at her nickname for him. She pushed him into the cupboard, kicking the door closed behind her. "I was absolutely awful and I've been too cowardly to face you about it. And you gave me such a nice Christmas present and I never thanked you for it and I'm just so sorry I've been such a horrible friend to you."

"Isn't Drake going to be a bit suspicious that you're in here alone with me with the door closed?" Theo snarked and she recoiled slightly. Though Hermione was certain he had not meant to be so sharp with his tone, it had bitten at her.

"What does it matter?" Hermione was horrified at how her voice quavered, but she had endured such a trying morning already that she certainly was not up for putting up with Theo's foul mood, too.

"You have feelings for him, Hermione. I'm not blind, nor stupid," Theo said, turning away from her and looking for something upon the shelf. "And I know he has the same feelings towards you."

"The same feelings you have, too," she said resolutely and watched his hand still as it scoured along a shelf. "I'm not blind or stupid, either, Teddy. But I don't have those feelings for you. I'm sorry if I led you on with that kiss on Christmas night, and I know now that it was a mistake. But I also know that you're a good friend of mine and that despite this, I know we can keep up our friendship if we both want it."

She jumped as Theo's fist slammed against the wood before his hand dropped to his side. "I'm sorry I've acted like such jealous arse," he said quietly. "You should be happy, even if it is with Drake."

"I'm not _with_ anyone, Teddy," she said. "I'm friends with Ron, I'm friends with Draco, I'm friends with you. I probably won't even end up seeing Draco. I'm not ready for anything like that again. Not yet. I just want you back as my friend."

"You got it, 'Mione," he grinned and she felt her chest swell with relief at his use of her hated nickname. "We should get back in there before someone writes another article about how you're consorting with the snakes."

Hermione rolled her eyes, standing on her toes and pulling down three jars from the shelves, tucking them safely in her arms. She left Theo searching for his ingredients and re-joined Draco who didn't look up at her as he spoke.

"Took your time, Granger," he drawled, fiddling with the cauldron.

"I ran into Theo," she explained.

"With the door locked behind you," he supplied and her eyes narrowed. Was he _jealous_? "You caused quite a stir out here for people who couldn't get in there to collect their ingredients. You were the only two to have disappeared inside, too. I think I was on the receiving end of a few sympathetic glances in your absence."

"You're _jealous_," she hissed at him, sitting down and undoing the stoppers on the jars. "Not that it's any of your business, Draco, but we had a conversation. Sorted out the differences between us that have occurred largely because of you, actually."

"Me?" he asked, keeping his voice low. Hermione silently thanked him, certain that otherwise a report would find itself in The Daily Prophet about how the new lovebirds were already bickering. "I don't see how this is at all my fault. Enlighten me, Granger. You're so prone to teaching others, so go ahead. Teach me what I've done to break up your friendship with my best mate."

"If I weren't friends with you, the two of you wouldn't feel the need to have some ridiculous competition for my affections," she muttered. "By the way it's going, neither of you will receive them."

"Pardon me for making your acquaintance then, Granger." Draco yanked the ingredients out from under her nose and started completing the potion on his own, his deftness rendering her useless. She sat, frozen, for a few minutes as he worked around her. It felt as though someone had punched a hole straight through her chest and her eyes prickled.

"Draco," Hermione said, voice cracking. She rubbed at her eyes with the heel of her hand, refusing to let the tears roll down her cheeks. He paused his actions but it wasn't until she lay her hand on his own that he put the jar of ingredients down and looked at her. A tear slipped down her cheek and she wiped it away hastily, embarrassed by her emotions. "I'm sorry. That was unnecessarily rude on my part. But I'm going to be friends with Theo, whether you like it or not, the same way I was friends with you even though Ron hated it. But it's like I told you in the library at your house: I don't have those sorts of feelings for him."

"But you do for me," Draco said. He flipped over the hand hers was resting on so their palms were pressed together. She tried to ignore the squirm in her stomach and looked around the room quickly, thankful the other students were all far too preoccupied with their assignments to notice the pair. His fingertips pressed lightly upon her own. "How would you feel if I disappeared into a locked cupboard with Pansy?"

If she were to be truthful, Hermione would tell him that she would be furious, that she would feel so sick that she may need a bucket. Though she had no claim over him, she felt there was an unspoken agreement between the two of them not to engage in any romantic conduct with others. "I'd hate it," she mumbled, looking him straight in the eye. The corner of his mouth twitched up.

His actions were so fast that Hermione thought they might not have even happened, but he wrapped his fingers tightly around her hand and squeezed for a half second before withdrawing his hand from under hers and dropping it beneath the table. "Precisely," he said. "I know how Ted feels about you and I know his past with women. He may be charming now but he was as much of an arse as I was when we were younger. I don't want him to hurt you, Hermione."

A shiver ran up her spine as it always did when he called her by her first name, another at the implication in his words. He wasn't about to let anyone hurt her, the commitment so sincere she almost blushed. "Then it's agreed," she said, picking up her quill. "No disappearing into locked cupboards with potential love interests."

"Apart from each other," he amended and she elbowed him in the ribs. "You're quite violent sometimes, you know. Pushing me out the dormitory hole, elbowing me. I could report you for it." Hermione glared at him, preparing herself to elbow him again. His cupped hand caught her arm before she could strike and he smirked. "Not again, Granger. We have to finish our potion."

Hermione reached over to drop the last ingredient into the cauldron, watching as its contents bubbled and frothed for a few seconds before settling down into a smooth gold liquid. "We just have to let it simmer until Sunday and it'll be ready for you to try," she said, scooping up a ladleful of it and pouring the thin elixir back into the pot. "Looks quite appetising, actually."

"Let's just hope it doesn't need much work," Draco said, collecting the equipment to put away. Hermione had made a miscalculation, the potion needing closer to one and a half lunar cycles to brew. With all the preparation time on top of that, they would only have time for one other brew before having to make their final potion and write up their assignment on it. "I'll pack up, Granger. Your girlfriend looks like she's going to go into a psychosis if you don't pay her any attention."

Hermione turned in her seat and saw Ginny looking at her, over-excitement tattooed on every line of her face. "Thanks, Draco," she said, smiling up at him as she stood. Hermione reached over and squeezed his hand for a few seconds before turning and following Ginny out of the room as the final bell rang.

Ginny had the good sense to wait until they were in the crowded Entrance Hall, other students too loud for them to be overheard, before questioning her. "Did I just see you holding hands with Draco Malfoy?" the redhead demanded as a group of Hufflepuffs squeezed past them into the Great Hall. "You told me you weren't going to date anyone."

"I'm not dating him, Ginny," Hermione said as they slid into their seats at the Gryffindor table. She collected two slices of bread and began to make herself a sandwich. "I just squeezed his hand to say goodbye. Look, Gin, we had a fight, we resolved it, we sorted some other things out between us. It didn't mean anything. Draco and I both know where we stand in our relationship. It was just a friendly gesture."

Ginny exhaled heavily and shook her head. "It didn't look like it was just 'friendly' but if you say so," she said and rolled her eyes. "But what were you doing _alone _with Theodore in the supply room with the door locked? Other than running the rumour mill rampant, of course. Whatever it was, you seemed to piss Draco off."

"I didn't realise you were so attuned to Draco's emotional state," Hermione sighed, putting down her lunch. "We had a conversation. Talked about a few things. Apologies were made, that's it. It's nothing scandalous. And of course it frustrated Draco. If you were to lock yourself in a cupboard with Dean Thomas then I'm certain Harry would have something to say about it."

"Harry's my fiancé, Hermione. I think there's a bit of a difference between my fiancé being mad at me for locking myself in a closet with my ex-boyfriend and your…Draco being angry because you were locked in a closet with his best mate."

"_My_ Draco?" Hermione raised her eyebrows at her best girlfriend. Ginny flushed at her use of words and shook her head. "We made an agreement not to lock ourselves in small spaces with potential love interests. I don't know what he and I are but I'm of the opinion we are _something_. We're not dating or anything. It's the same way you would have been furious if Harry had gone off and fallen in love when we were hunting for horcruxes."

Ginny let out a low whistle of air between her teeth as Hermione returned to her lunch. They focused on their food, ignoring the glances and whispers that headed their way from other students about the article that had been splayed across the front page of the newspaper that morning. Hermione dropped their previous conversation in favour of asking Ginny about their Charms homework, correcting a few mistakes in her friend's essay before their double period started and successfully losing the attentions of nosey students.

Hermione was pleased with the rest of the day's positive progression, her mood vastly improving with the two hour Charms lab. Professor Flitwick was the most relaxed of all the teachers about inter-house cooperation in his subject as it was a Ravenclaw and Gryffindor mixed class with no animosity existing, allowing his students to work with whomever they pleased. Ginny and Hermione glued themselves together, working solidly for the whole two hours on the task at hand. When the final bell for the day rang, Hermione had almost forgotten about the report in the newspaper.

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><p><strong>AN: Please let me know what you think in a REVIEW.**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Another chapter! This one is a bit more heated though still T-rated. Let me know what you think in a REVIEW.**

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><p><em><strong>Hermione's Dormitory<strong>_

_**10:30AM**_

_**Sunday, January 12**__**th**__**, 1999**_

Hermione finished organising the living room so it would be as comfortable as possible, stoking the fire and laying out cushions and blankets for her study session with Draco. She had never gone to such trouble preparing for his arrival but she argued with herself that he was testing a potentially dangerous potion for her, so the least she could do would be to make him comfortable. As the last cushion was thrown haphazardly down into the corner, she heard Draco's footsteps on the stairs.

"This is nice," he commented upon his arrival, a small vial of their potion in hand. Hermione blushed at the compliment, mentally chastising herself for being such a giddy little schoolgirl as she took his cloak and hung it up. "I still have to cast the spell over the potion but then, if you're ready, I can take it."

"I've got all the parchment and quills out. I drew up a table so I can record if there are any changes in the scar tissue every five minutes," she said and Draco nodded. "I'll get you a glass so it'll be easier to cast the incantation over the elixir." When the gold liquid had been deposited into a glass goblet Hermione found in her cupboard, they moved across to where she had set up their area. Draco kicked off his shoes and sat on the floor with his legs crossed. Hermione felt her cheeks colour again at her next proposal: "You should probably take your shirt off."

"Trying to get me naked, are you, Granger?" Draco smirked as he deftly undid the top button of his dress shirt. She was mortified as he threw her a wink whilst he continued undoing the fastenings. Hermione looked away, finding a speck of wall particularly fascinating as he shed the article of clothing and deposited on the floor beside the coffee table. She noticed he had wrapped a pale bandage around his left forearm and he followed her gaze. "I didn't think you'd want to see it," he said, rubbing at the bandage with his right hand.

She softened at his consideration. "Thank you," she said quietly, mirroring his pose and placing the goblet in between them. "You want to do it?"

Draco nodded, grabbing his wand and holding it above the glass. He cleared his throat, pointing the tip at its contents. "_Sana Cicatricibus_," he said. The elixir glowed brightly for a moment and Draco nodded at her, picking up the glass. "Cheers." In a large gulp, he swallowed the whole concoction, licking his lips at the end to catch a drop which clung to his lips. Hermione unconsciously mirrored the action. "Tastes like honey."

"If it doesn't work then that can be our selling point. Doesn't work but tastes great!" Hermione said sarcastically, rising to her feet and taking the cup over to the sink. "How do you feel?"

"Tingly," Draco said, straightening his legs out in front of him and flipping over so he lay on his stomach, propped up by his elbows. "Any change?"

Hermione returned to him, kneeling at his side and pressing her fingers lightly to the smallest scar she could find, one on his lower back. He trembled slightly at her touch and she hid a smile. "Nothing yet, but I don't think it'll work immediately. It'll need a while to get through your system and for the potion to find where the damage is."

Draco rolled back over but maintained his lazy position, Hermione dangerously close. "What are we going to do to pass the time?" he asked, smirking devilishly at her. "I'm already half naked, you know, so we could consider an activity along those lines, if you wished."

"Draco," she groaned, shifting back and settling beside the parchment and quill she had set out. She recorded that there had been no immediate change and looked back at her partner. "You're going to keep being a complete arse about this situation, aren't you?"

"Until you snog me again, yes," he admitted freely. Hermione made sure she kept her gaze on his face, refusing to let her eyes wander down the pale skin of his torso. "You know you want to, Granger. Hell, _I _know you want to. You told me so yourself. So just give in already. I'm sure you'll enjoy it."

Hermione scowled at him. "Roll over," she said and he complied. She returned to her kneeling position, fingers hovering over the small scar she had started her observations on just a few minutes prior. A gasp came out of her lips. Whilst the mark had been small, it had still been noticeable, an ugly gash against Draco's milky skin. Now, the ridges that had formed around the cut had disappeared, the scar reduced to a thin red line. "This is amazing."

"Did it work?" Draco's voice was hopeful, head turned to face her, trying to glimpse at the effects of their hard work.

"Not completely, but they're healing." Hermione ran her finger along some of the other scars, eliciting another shiver from Draco. "The inflammation is largely gone and it's fading on some of the worse marks. There's still a clearly perceptible line but it still looks a lot better. And that was just after five minutes." She jumped to her feet and returned to her parchment and quill, scribbling down the results furiously.

"I can't believe it worked so quickly," Draco said, facing her again. While he adjusted himself, Hermione allowed herself to flit her eyes over his exposed torso, instantly wishing she hadn't. His increased number of intense Quidditch trainings had done Draco's physique a world of good, clearly visible in the clean lines of muscle that rippled with his movements.

"No, neither can I," Hermione agreed, mouth dry. "We'll have to wait and see if the other marks fade, too, or if it just got rid of the inflammation. I'll have to keep checking every five minutes, so don't get too comfortable."

"I just think you're checking up on me so regularly because you want to touch me," Draco teased, shifting slightly. Hermione kept her sight firmly on his face to avoid looking at the muscles which flexed with his movements but rolled her eyes. "Deny it all you want, Granger. You're the one who wanted me topless on your floor."

"You're so crude," Hermione said but she couldn't keep the smile off her face as their banter continued. It was only interrupted as she instructed him to roll over and inspected his back, the cycle continuing for almost an hour.

"How does it look now?" Draco asked.

She squinted, getting closer to his back, scouring the skin for any sign of the scar. There was still a faint pink line but it would be almost invisible on less pale skin. Some of the larger, angrier scars were still bright red, but Hermione felt her face break into a huge smile at the progress they had made. "I think we've done it," she said, tracing along the tiny pink stain on his skin.

Draco flipped over smoothly. She recognised the smile that rarely graced his features as it spread brightly across his face. Hermione bit her lip, his grin so euphoric it made her want to laugh. The mood shifted with that movement, a near imperceptible change. With his weight held entirely on one elbow, Draco lifted a hand and cupped her cheek, brushing his thumb lightly over her lip. Before Hermione could realise what was happening, he had pulled her down slightly to press his lips to hers.

Just like that, Hermione allowed herself to melt into Draco's kiss, let him take charge of the action. She didn't care what was happening, his touch all too consuming. Part of her mind reminded her of the clichés she had pored over when she had gone through a stage of reading romance novels. The explosiveness of his kiss, the heat in his touch, the urgency in the interaction. But it was clouded when he pulled her down beside him on the blanketed floor, positioning himself over her slightly.

In any rational state, Hermione would have pushed him away, chastising him with flushed cheeks, but something about Draco Malfoy did her head in. He had changed so much she scarcely recognised him and she was certain that six months ago, she could never have even dreamed that she would be friends with him, let alone snogging him on the floor of her dormitory, his shirt haphazardly abandoned, her fingers looped through the silky strands of his hair. She let the kiss continue for far longer than that niggling part of her mind would have wanted. She could hear dim footsteps on the stairs, beginning to rouse her out of the intoxicated state she succumbed to under Draco's fevered kisses.

"Hermione," Ginny's voice was at the doorway to her living room, too calm for her to have seen what was happening, but Hermione was too preoccupied with Draco kissing along her jawline to truly take notice. "Merlin's pants, Hermione!"

The shrill tone of her best friend made Hermione sit up instantly, Draco rolling off to the side as the brunette whipped her head around. "Ginny, you scared the life out of me," she said, scrambling to her feet. Her cheeks were aflame. "We were just working on our assignment for Potions."

"Really?" Ginny asked, brows lifting so high they disappeared in her hairline. "I didn't realise you two were working on an aphrodisiac." Hermione felt face grow even warmer. "I was going to ask you if you wanted to have an early lunch with me and go for a walk afterwards but I can see you're…preoccupied." The redhead gave her a sly little smile. "I'll let you two get back to _studying_."

Hermione had no time to reply before Ginny was back down the stairs and climbing out into the hallway, leaving a very red Head Girl standing there. Behind her, Draco cleared his throat.

"That was fun," he said and she whirled around on her heel. He had put his shirt back on, doing some of the buttons up but leaving the top few undone, sleeves rolled to the elbow.

"That was _mortifying_," Hermione said, falling into an armchair. Draco looked amused at her state, settling on the settee instead. "I can't believe Ginny just walked in on that."

"Walked in on what?" he asked. "We weren't doing anything that could be considered particularly risqué. We were just snogging."

"Quite thoroughly, though," Hermione snapped. She ran a hand across her face and tangled it in her hair, ignoring how tender her lips felt, how they still tingled even though the kiss had finished. The taste of coffee and cinnamon lingered there. "And _you_ weren't even wearing a shirt."

"I have a perfectly legitimate reason as to why I wasn't wearing a shirt, Granger," he supplied. "We were testing our potion and my back had to be examined quickly and clearly. We just happened to get a bit enthusiastic when it was a success and we began to celebrate."

"Can you just shut up for a minute?" Hermione asked, tone slicing through the air. She ignored Draco's affronted look. This was not at all what she had anticipated when he had walked up the stairs to her dormitory that morning. Certainly there had been an expectation that they may have goofed around a bit, perhaps had some measure of physical contact, but a heated snogging session with a topless Draco Malfoy had _not_ been what she was expecting, even when her imagination stretched to its farthest limits. Everything was moving far too fast. "We can't be doing things like this," she said after they had sat in silence for three minutes.

"Things like what? Snogging? Or just having a good time with each other?" Draco asked, his tone growing sharper with each question. "Or just being around each other in general? Because from what I noticed a few minutes ago, you were having the time of your life. Letting your hair down is what you need to do, Granger. Neither of us have had particularly fun times as teenagers so we may as well make the most of it while we still can."

"But we can't make the most of it by rolling around on floors kissing, Draco," she said, exasperated. "I just broke up with my fiancé. Your _best_ _friend_ likes me. There are other people to consider. And we're not even anything yet. We're friends, and from past experience, I don't make out with friends who are topless."

"You like me, Hermione," Draco said, wriggling off the couch and kneeling in front of her. She softened with his use of her first name. "You like me and I like you and we've both been through enough misery and anger and sadness in our lives that we deserve the opportunity to be happy. Why do you care so much what other people are going to think about every little piece of your life?"

"Because it's important to me." She pulled her knees beneath her chin, away from Draco's grasp. He scowled and resumed his seat. "I'm not willing to jeopardise friendships because I made a mistake."

"And I'm a mistake?"

Hermione mentally berated herself for her lack of eloquence. "No, Draco," she turned her tone soft. "But right now, I can't. No matter the relationship status of Harry and Ginny, until their wedding plans are leaked to the press, we," she gestured between them, "are the juicier story. I've done many reckless things in my life, Draco, but if I were to jump into a relationship with you, it'd easily be the most dangerous of my life."

"How long am I to wait?" Draco asked. "A week? A month? Six?" He let out a snarl of laughter. "Like it or not, Granger, you aren't the only one who gets a say in this relationship. We've both waited long enough to be happy. Why prolong our misery?"

"Us getting together would cause more harm than good right now," Hermione said. She _wanted_ to be with Draco, but the rational part of her mind was overwhelmingly right when it told her other people would be hurt by her decision. There may be a time when they would be able to be together without fear of hurting others, but now was not that time. "We need to remain strictly friends," she said and swallowed the lump in her throat. "You can come over and we can work on assignments, but we can't hold hands in class or kiss or do anything like that. It needs to be a completely platonic relationship."

Hermione saw his jaw clench, fists curl up before his fingers flexed back out and relaxed. "Fine, Granger," he said finally. "But I'm not going to say I'll wait anymore. I can't keep doing this to myself, letting you run me around. It's not fair for me to have to pin my hope on someone with as many erratic mood changes as you seem to have."

Draco stood, rolling the sleeves down on his dress shirt and pulling his coat on. "I'm sorry," Hermione said, rising with him, despising how emotional her voice was, how girlish he made her. He turned to look at her, hands pushed deep into his coat pockets, eyes dark and cold.

"So am I."

* * *

><p>"Nice pash rash, Drake," Blaise hooted as Draco stalked into the common room, flipping the bird to his best friend on his way to his dormitory. Daphne, resting with her feet in her fiancé's lap, dug her heel into his thigh. "What the hell was that for, Daph?"<p>

"Draco hasn't scared away that many firsties since our Sixth Year," Daphne said, giving Blaise another nudge with her heel and pulling her legs away. "He's been with Hermione all morning and going by that reaction, I'd say it didn't go particularly well. Seeing as you are absolutely awful when it comes to the serious conversations, I'll talk to him."

Daphne slipped her feet back into her ballet flats and waved over her shoulder at Blaise who rolled his eyes and spread out to lounge across the sofa. She headed up the stairs to the boys' dormitory, ignoring the shocked looks from some of the younger males she passed on her way. The door to the seventh year boys' room was locked and from behind the thick layer of wood she could hear sounds of destruction. A droplet of fear slid down her spine.

This was how Draco had reacted back in their Sixth Year when something had not gone according to plan. He would curse and yell and cry and break whatever was available to him, on one occasion coming dangerously close to wounding Blaise when he tried to step in one evening. Daphne knocked gently against the wood and flattened her palm out on the door.

"Draco?" she asked quietly. The sounds inside ceased. "Draco, it's Daphne. Can I…can I come in?" When there was no response from the other side, Daphne cast a silent _Alohamora_ on the handle. The lock clicked open and she entered cautiously, making note of Draco's form sitting on the foot of his bed, hands tracing through his hair. The rest of the room was not as tattered as she had thought it would be, a few chairs knocked over and some drawers strewn open.

As she bent down to scoop up the contents of one of the drawers, a few scraps of parchment and unused envelopes from Draco's desk, an image of him and Hermione kissing voraciously battered her mind. She reeled slightly at the memory Draco was sharing. "She said we can be friends," he said out loud, keeping his head down. "We snogged and then she turned around a minute later and told me that we can't do that anymore. That we can't have anything but a platonic relationship." Draco fell back onto the mattress. "I don't know what else I can do."

Daphne frowned, abandoning her task to join him on his bed with her legs crossed beneath her. "You have to give her time," she said, holding a hand up when he looked ready to interrupt her. "Yes, I know you've given her time, but the pair of you started getting physical less than two weeks ago. And barely three weeks ago, she broke up with her fiancé in a very public manner. Hermione's had a very hard couple of years so you'll have to deal with the fact that she may need time to adjust to new situations. Not to mention that you were one of her main antagonists for most of her teenage years, so how do you think she feels about liking you?"

"In some cases, time _can_ heal all wounds," she continued. "And her whole life is splashed across the press. I bet the poor girl can't even sneeze without someone writing up a story on it. You just have to give her a chance to get used to everything that's happening in her life. You, the end of her relationship with Ronald, her work here, her life in the papers, her friendship with Theodore."

Draco sat up and twisted himself around slightly to look at her. "Considering you've only had one relationship and it's with my twat of a best mate, I'll never understand how you got so good at giving out advice."

"Feminine intuition," Daphne said. "Why were you two going at it, anyway? Last time I checked, there wasn't any mistletoe left around the castle."

His cheeks pinked. "You probably didn't want to see that," he said. "We were testing out our potion on me and it happened to work and snogging seemed like the only appropriate way to celebrate."

"Topless snogging. On the floor," Daphne deadpanned. She shook her head at Draco's guilty smirk. "I doubt Hermione's ever done anything like that with someone she considers a friend, so maybe keep your clothes on around her from now on, too." Draco lay back down, eyes closed in frustration and she backtracked. "But if you really want me to, I can go and talk to her on your behalf."

That seemed to capture Draco's attention. He sat up straight and smoothed down his hair. "I sound like a lovesick Hufflepuff," he said and took a deep breath, "but could you? I don't think I left things on the best terms with her."

"I'll pay her a visit this evening," Daphne promised. "Until then, you better clean this up before someone comes up and finds this mess."

"Yes, Mother."

* * *

><p><em><strong>Slytherin Common Room <strong>_

_**9:30PM**_

_**Monday, January 13**__**th**__**, 1999**_

Draco was grinning like the proverbial cat who caught the canary as he and the rest of the Slytherin Quidditch team tramped their way through the common room. Though he was shivering, snow still settled in his hair and teeth chattering slightly, he was in a better mood than he had been for a long time.

Whatever Daphne had said to Hermione the prior evening had put the Gryffindor witch in an excellent mood and the lessons they had together that day, including a double period of Potions, had been some of the lightest and most jovial of his whole time at Hogwarts. Neither had brought up their argument on Sunday – though they both avoided the topic of their heated kiss, too – and had instead just focused on their potion, having the intellectual spars which made Hermione so entertaining to Draco.

The day had concluded with an excellent training session, his team finally coming to terms with his new schedule and routine. Despite the cold, they had been on good terms when he had announced that they had a very high chance of winning the Quidditch Cup that year. The team had been on top form and had their hands not almost been frozen to their broomsticks from the weather, Draco was certain they would have continued training long into the night.

After a few claps on the back from his teammates, Draco settled down in an armchair directly in front of the fire to let his toes thaw. Though he had showered and warmed up after training, the walk back from the locker room beside the Quidditch pitch had frozen his feet solid. A few of the others were also shaking, brushing snow from their hair and casting Heating Charms upon themselves. Blaise took up a seat on the sofa to Draco's left where Daphne was curled up to finish reading for one of her classes, Theo stretching himself out on the other couch, legs hanging languidly off the end.

The two had settled their differences over Hermione on the train ride back to school after the Christmas break. Theo (after much persuasion from Daphne, Draco believed) had accepted that the Gryffindor simply wanted to be friends and that it wasn't Draco's fault that she was not romantically interested. There had been a tense few minutes when no one was sure Theo would react with an even slightly positive reaction, but eventually he had relaxed. He and Draco picked up their close friendship where it had left off a couple of months ago, though Draco was careful not to mention the witch that had come between them.

"Draco?" He looked towards the source of the voice and found Astoria, Daphne's younger sister, with a towel in her arms. "Your hair's all wet from the snow. I thought you could use this."

"Tori, what do you think you're doing?" Daphne asked, uncurling herself from Blaise's embrace. Her brows had knitted together and she was moving towards her sister.

"I hate it when you call me that," Astoria grumbled and Draco fought to keep a smirk away at the pout the young Slytherin's face formed.

"And I hate it when you steal my clothes and wear them badly," Daphne pointed out, leaning forward to snatch the scarf that was wrapped around her little sister's neck. "Blaise gave me this and I'd rather you didn't ruin it by wearing it with that shirt."

"Down, kitty," Blaise said, pulling his fiancé back onto the loveseat. Daphne harrumphed and wrapped the knit around her own neck. "Put the claws away."

Astoria glared at her older sister but Draco watched her face turn into a pretty little smile when she turned back to him. "Here you go," she said, leaning forward and patting away the moisture from his hair. Were he not frozen in bemusement, Draco knew he would be laughing as raucously as Theo and Blaise were whilst the Sixth Year girl dried his hair.

"Thanks?" he said when she finished, the girl blushing under his attentions. Her mop of dark hair disappeared as Astoria returned to her friends and Draco caught their giggling before turning back to his own group.

"I think you have an admirer, Drake," Theo laughed, dodging the pillow Draco launched at his head. "Nothing wrong with that, man. She's cute."

"She's my _little_ _sister_," Daphne said, tossing her own cushion at Theo with her nose scrunched up. "Salazar, I cannot believe the nerve of her. I never thought she'd actually do anything." The blonde rolled her eyes when Draco passed an inquisitive look her way. "She's been in love with you since she first saw you, or so she says. Last summer she begged our parents to organise a marriage contract similar to the one Blaise and I have."

Draco felt a wave of hysteria tinged with nausea overcome him. "A marriage contract?" he choked out as Theo and Blaise howled with laughter. "I don't think I've ever spoken to her before just then."

Daphne shook her head. "In her first year you kicked her out of your favourite chair like the prat that you were," she informed him. A hazy memory of him intimidating the younger students away from his favourite places resurfaced. "She found your authority attractive and has been a bit obsessed with you ever since. It's a bit creepy, actually."

Draco craned his neck slightly to glance at the youngest Greengrass. She wasn't as pretty as Daphne, but she had wide eyes and petal pink lips, dark hair plaited into a careful style on the side. She certainly did not know how to carry herself as well as her older sister did, her overall image a bit haphazard, but she was attractive enough. The Sixth Year chose that second to turn around, flushing under his gaze. "How old is she?" he asked.

Blaise kept his lips shut for fear of attack from his girlfriend but Theo was almost hysterical at the look on Daphne's face. "Sixteen, Draco," she said. "And if you go anywhere near her, I'll hex your bollocks off and toss them into the Black Lake for the squid to chew on."

"No need to get violent, Daph," Draco said, adjusting himself to protect his privates. "I'm not going to try anything with your little sister. Partly because there's no attraction there, but mainly because I've seen your hex work and it scares me a little. But why did she choose now to act like a Gryffindor and make a move?"

Daphne sighed, relieved, and relaxed back into Blaise's arms. "She was going to do something before the Christmas Break but didn't get the chance. And then you and Hermione were splashed across the front page of The Prophet and she got scared off. No one can really compare to a famous war heroine. But you two haven't made the news in a week so she managed to pluck up the courage, I suppose."

"And is this to be a long-term endeavour?" he asked, ignoring Theo's shit-eating grin when Daphne nodded. "Would you like to tell her my interests lie elsewhere?"

Daphne gave a smirk which could rival his own, shaking her head, long blonde locks rippling with the movement. "Not a chance," she said. "I'm her older sister so she'd just think I was pulling her leg. Either you'll have to tell her yourself or just wait it all out." She stood and pressed a kiss to Blaise's cheek. "I wish you luck. She can be quite persistent when she wants to be. Goodnight!"

Draco groaned, slumping in his chair.

* * *

><p><em><strong>The Great Hall<strong>_

_**7:30AM**_

_**Tuesday, January 14**__**th**__**, 1999**_

Having woken from Theo's snoring, Draco had opted for an early breakfast rather than a fitful extra hour of sleep. The Slytherin table was largely empty, most of his housemates usually choosing to take the extra hour in bed rather than arrive as soon as the meal was served. He took his usual seat and made a cursory look around the Great Hall. At the Gryffindor table, punctual as usual, Hermione was eating her breakfast, their Arithmancy textbook propped up on a jug of pumpkin juice. Sensing his attention, she looked up and smiled at him, offering a wave. He considered joining her at the equally empty Gryffindor table but the presence of someone hovering over him made Draco turn.

"Anyone sitting here?" Astoria didn't wait for a reply and Draco's eyes widened as she slid onto the bench beside him. Her skirt had been rolled up a few inches, hair curled neatly and cosmetics applied. He looked over her quickly, seeing the uneven lengths of her socks and how her shirt had not been pressed, reminding Draco she was too young for him.

"Just you," he said, looking away from her and across to the Gryffindor table again. Hermione was giving him a sceptical look, brows raised, a small smile playing upon her lips. He imparted a withering stare and watched as she laughed quietly, returning to her textbook. Draco poured himself a cup of coffee from the pot closest and picked up a croissant. With quick fingers, he pulled apart the pastry and placed a small amount in his mouth. "Isn't your skirt a bit above regulation length?"

The girl blanched for a half second but regained her composure, somewhat shakier. "Don't you like it?" she asked, fiddling with the hemline. Draco made no move to respond, smirking into his cup when he took a deep sip. Astoria rolled down her skirt whilst he pretended to look away. "So, Draco, do you have any plans for next weekend's Hogsmeade trip?"

"Not as of yet," he said, finishing the last of his breakfast. "I'll probably just grab a Butterbeer with Blaise and your sister in The Three Broomsticks and come back early." He paused, checking his watch as The Great Hall began to fill. "Seventh year is demanding. I have a lot of work on."

"Maybe we could catch up for a drink," Astoria suggested and Draco was certain he didn't imagine it when she shifted an inch closer. She fiddled with her collar for a few seconds and he realised the top two buttons had come undone, her fingers working on the third.

He filtered through possible excuses to make, attempting to find one that could be considered even mildly feasible. Somewhere between madly in love with a Hippogriff and becoming a monk to avoid his potential date, Draco gave a relieved sigh as his friends arrived, Daphne with her hands on her hips.

"Tori, what do you think you're _doing_?" she asked, pushing her little sister along the bench. Astoria looked as though she were about to argue with her older sister, but Daphne's intense stare left her with no response. Instead, the Sixth Year just looked at Draco and gave bright smile, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "What did you do to your skirt? And your shirt!"

Astoria scooted away rather than start a scene at breakfast, her seat taken by Theo. Draco rounded on Daphne who sat across from him, ignoring Blaise's trembling as he swallowed his laughter. "Your sister is an absolute nutter, Daph," he said, pouring himself another cup of coffee and passing the pot to his left. "Why has she decided to start stalking me all of a sudden?"

Daphne laughed, pouring herself a cup of tea. "She hasn't just started to do it all of a sudden. Astoria's been working up to it for a while. I suppose she just saw her opportunity and struck. You were alone, there weren't many witnesses if she was to be rejected, and I wasn't around to scare her off."

"She's psychotic," he insisted, gulping down his second dose of caffeine for the day. "I've got to go back to my dormitory to grab my books for class. If I don't turn up in Potions then you can assume I've been kidnapped and forced to marry her."

"I hope you like the suit she's picked out for you," Daphne called after him as he turned out of The Great Hall. He shuddered into the empty Entrance Hall, escaping down the staircase to the Dungeons before Astoria could catch a glimpse of him and follow.

He ducked into a small alcove to avoid a group of Astoria's friends who would no doubt report to her on his whereabouts, silently creeping up to his dormitory when they passed. He was able to avoid detection to the Potions classroom, blending in with the crowds of students. Still one of the first to arrive at the classroom, he leaned against a wall, able to flatten himself if Astoria came along.

"Daphne's little sister, eh?" Hermione said, approaching with her books in her arms, amusement in her eyes. She joined him against the wall, grinning. "Wouldn't have pegged you for such a cradle-snatcher."

"Jealous, are we?" he asked, turning to face her and resting his left arm against the stone wall. Unabashedly, Draco drank in the details of her face. There was the curl of her eyelashes and the droplets of freckles across her nose and the way her cheeks coloured with his suggestion. Hermione bit her lip and dropped her gaze to the floor, leaving Draco grinning. "You _are_ jealous. Of Astoria? Really?"

"Don't be a prat," Hermione said, eyes flaming when she looked back up to his face. "You used to be jealous whenever I'd talk to Theo and if I recall correctly, you didn't find it so funny."

Draco forced himself to lock away his smirk but moved closer to Hermione until they were just breaths apart. "But I had reason to be jealous," he said quietly, watching her cheeks pink with his proximity. "You had been close with Theo. You kissed him. Whereas you have no reason to worry with Astoria because you _know_ my interests lie elsewhere." He reached forward and tugged on a curl that had come loose from her neat ponytail, watching it bounce back to shape.

"Draco," she warned quietly, shifting herself backwards with reluctance. "Don't. We can't."

"Do you still want to, though?" he asked, relieved when she nodded though he kept his face cool. "Don't take too long to come around, Granger. I might just fall in love with Greengrass in the meantime." Draco put a hand on her lower back and pushed her towards the door as Slughorn arrived, noticing how she shook slightly at the pressure with a grin.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Please REVIEW!**

_**Sana Cicatricibus: **Latin for "Heal My Scars"_


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: I'm SO sorry that this chapter has taking me so long to come out with. It'd been sitting in a period of stasis for a little while on about 2,000 words when my computer decided to die on me, and once I finally got it fixed, I had other things on my mind. Then again I went ahead and opened this chapter up to keep going and my computer kicked the bucket **_**again**_**. But now I've finally got it up and running so hopefully there shouldn't be any other major problems.**

* * *

><p><em><strong>The Three Broomsticks<strong>_

_**Midday**_

_**Sunday, January 26**__**th**__**, 1999**_

Draco swirled around the last of his Butterbeer as Daphne and Blaise left the pub for some shopping. Theo had departed ten minutes earlier to return to the castle, lagging behind on his homework, leaving Draco alone in the jovial place. He had noticed Hermione sitting with her redhead girlfriend in a small booth having an animated conversation but he was determined to resist joining them, letting the recipient of his affections enjoy her time with other friends. It wasn't until the door to the bar opened, a swirl of cold weather invading the warmth, that Draco realised he would have to make his escape.

Astoria wandered in, looking about for someone she may recognise. She was all done up in impractical heeled boots and a skirt that let far too much cold in, Draco noticed before he slouched down in his seat. She had been pestering him for the last week and a half, dogging him between classes and finding cause to talk to him at every meal and when he was trying to relax in the Common Room most evening. On one occasion she had even rugged up to stalk him to Quidditch practice and he was at his wits end trying to put up with her obsession. She would spot him in a matter of seconds and he wasn't sure he could tolerate any more chatter about makeup or her tedious friends.

Taking his chance as Astoria scoured the room, Draco ducked between the tables, resurfacing beside Hermione. "Hey, Red," he drawled upon his arrival, ignoring the disdainful look Ginny passed him at the nickname.

"Don't you have any friends in your own house, Malfoy?" she asked, shifting around the table and further away from him. The redhead spied the reason for his hasty escape and a catty smile lit up her face. "Or would you rather I just called Astoria over for some conversation?"

"I dare you, Red," Draco warned. "Just see how far you get."

Ginny bristled at the challenge, posing as though she were about to call out the name of the younger Greengrass and wave her over.

"Gin, stop," Hermione said, placing a firm hand on her girlfriend's forearm. "Aren't you supposed to be meeting with Harry in a few minutes?"

Ginny sighed, relaxing her stance to check her timepiece. "You're lucky, Malfoy," she said, pulling her sleeve back over her watch and standing. "I'll tell Harry you said hi, Hermione. We'll probably pop back in here if you're still around later." She said something else, her final words lost in the swell of noise from other patrons and waved her way into the snow.

"Let's move to a booth," Hermione said loudly, lips close to his ear. He restrained a shiver as the warm air blew against his lobe. "I can hardly hear anything in this place."

Draco nodded, signalling the bartender to ask for two more Butterbeers as he trailed after Hermione like a lost puppy. They settled into the last empty booth, the circular ones towards the back of the tavern and usually reserved for couples. He saw Astoria still searching for someone to sit with, her eyes meeting his as he glanced in her direction. For a second her face lit up and she began her way across the crowded venue to greet him. Hermione straightened up a moment later and Astoria obviously noticed the Gryffindor's presence, a scowl dirtying her features before the Slytherin girl hastily made her exit onto the street.

"Crisis averted," Draco mumbled beneath his breath, a waitress turning up and depositing their fresh drinks on the table. "Sorry for interrupting your date with Red," he said to Hermione who sipped deeply from her glass, licking the foam off her upper lip. His stomach somersaulted.

"No problem," Hermione shrugged. "She and Harry have a date. He's working the Valentine's Day weekend and they can't catch up at the Hogsmeade meeting then so they're celebrating a few weeks early. I was planning on heading back to the castle early if I didn't find anyone else to share a drink with but you're here now."

"That I am, Granger," he said, another quick look around the bar to see if there was any sign of Astoria. It seemed devoid of other Slytherins though it was bursting at the seams with patrons. He watched Hermione take another gulp of her drink, repeating her previous actions and running her tongue across the string of foam that outlined her upper lip. Draco swallowed thickly and mirrored her.

Hermione noticed his action and pinked slightly. "Congratulations on your win on the Quidditch pitch last week," she said quickly, looking down into her drink. "I heard it was quite a spectacular catch of the Snitch by you."

Draco smirked, remembering the barrel roll he had orchestrated to catch the Snitch out from under the nose of the Hufflepuff Seeker, successfully winning the match for his team. They had spent that evening celebrating being one step closer to the prestigious Quidditch Cup with contraband Firewhiskey in the Room of Requirement. "It was quite a feat," he bragged. "You missed it?"

"Studying," she admitted. "I was trying to figure out which ingredients needed added potency for maximum effect with our Potions assignment. I lost track of time and when I realised it, it was nearly time for dinner and I'd completely missed the game. I was rooting for Hufflepuff, anyway."

"Ouch, Granger," he said, finishing the last of his drink. "You want another?" he asked, signalling the bartender when she nodded. "Normally, I'd ask what advancements you made with our potion but I'm just not in the mood for school talk. You going to make it to the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw match next weekend?"

Hermione stared at him flatly. "Only because Ginny's forcing me," she said, smiling at the waitress as their old glasses were cleared away and new drinks arrived. "She's desperate to get me enthusiastic about the game now that she's the captain. Harry and Ron tried to get me into the game for seven years and neither succeeded so I don't know why she thinks she can turn me around in twelve months. If I decided to skip out on her match next weekend she'd probably Imperius me there."

"Why aren't you interested in it?" he asked.

"I've never been into sport, even before I knew I was a witch. My dad would always try to take me to rugby matches or watch it with him on the telly, but I was never interested," Hermione said. Draco pretended to understand what 'rugby' and 'telly' meant, nodding along as she continued. "It's just never captured me. I'll admit, there was some initial interest when I was first introduced to Quidditch but that mainly vanished when I first hopped on a broom. I'll watch for my friends but that's it."

"And Krum," Draco smirked and Hermione scowled. "Hermione Granger, war heroine, doesn't like flying?"

She shuddered. "No," she said. "It's not for me. I like keeping my feet firmly on the ground. I've only been on a broom once in our very first flying lesson with Madame Hooch, but I've flown on a Thestral and a Hippogriff. And a dragon on one terrifying occasion."

"A_dragon_?" Draco asked.

"Last year," Hermione nodded. "Not a memory I'd rather relive."

Draco tiltedhis glass around and looked up at the door as new patrons arrived. "Looks like you might have some visitors," he said, nodding as a couple wandered in.

"Harry!" Hermione's face brightened as Harry and Ginny wandered in, hands linked. She waved them over, scooting closer to him in the booth.

"Do you want me to leave you to catch up?" Draco offered. The booths were small, designed for two not four, and their legs were pressed flush against each other's but she didn't seem to notice. He wasn't overwhelmed with the idea of a casual drink with Potter, still feeling indebted to the wizard who had saved him from a lifetime in Azkaban.

"No, they'll just be in for a quick drink," Hermione said. "They'll want some alone time."

Draco forced out a smile when the couple arrived, sliding into the booth opposite him. "Afternoon, Potter," he greeted the Boy Who Lived with a taut nod. "Red," he smirked at Ginny who glared at him.

"How have you been, Malfoy?" Harry asked stiffly and Draco was pleased to see he wasn't the only one uncomfortable with the situation. The Chosen One had an arm slung around his fiancé's shoulder, the other resting on the table with fingers tapping to an unheard beat, but his jaw was clenched and eyes wary. Draco didn't blame him.

"Fine, thank you," Draco replied, tone equally as rigid. He kept his hands on the table, fingers interlaced, not wanting to drop them beneath and potentially graze them against Hermione. "I read somewhere you were participating in the Auror training program this year. How is that so far?"

He nodded along at all the right times as Harry explained what he had been doing for the last three weeks though he missed much of the conversation. Instead, his attention was on the pressure against his leg beneath the table. The Butterbeers had gone to Hermione's head, her cheeks flushed and smile bright as she bobbed along with her best friend's stories and Draco forced himself to focus on his empty Butterbeer glass and not the way her leg push against his whenever she laughed.

It seemed as though an age had passed before the happy couple rose to their feet to farewell Hermione. Draco had opted to twiddle his thumbs together in an attempt to pass the time, ignoring Ginny's scathing looks. He had bitten the inside of his cheeks to keep himself from bursting out with sarcastic remarks throughout the conversation. Without Potter there he would have fired them off but Draco still felt incredibly indebted to the wizard who had saved his family and possibly his own soul and part of him felt he should not irk the hero of the wizarding world. Harry and Hermione appeared unaware of his boredom, continuing on with their jovial conversations.

"Give my love to Ron, won't you?" Hermione said as Harry buttoned up his coat. He paused midway and looked up at her, green eyes troubled.

"About Ron," he frowned, pressing his lips together for a moment as if to decide whether or not to continue. "He's seeing someone, Hermione. It's nothing serious – they're just going for drinks – but it'll be in the papers soon, no doubt, and I just thought you should find out now."

"It's Fay Dunbar," Ginny added at Hermione's pursed lips.

A faint memory of Fay Dunbar sprung to Draco's mind, a pretty Gryffindor who he had shared Care of Magical Creatures with when they had both taken the subject. She had opted out of returning to Hogwarts to redo her Seventh Year and he recalled she had been spared much of the antagonism of the Carrows and their band of vicious followers. Fay had been one of the few Gryffindors spared the torture the prior year, a pureblood who kept out of any controversial business.

Draco paused his thoughts to shake hands with Potter before he and his fiancé left, the redhead passing him a contemptuous look over her shoulder. Draco was certain he would have dropped dead if looks could kill. He looked back at Hermione, how her shoulders had slumped a little, the way her smile was not as radiant. "Come on, Granger," he said, standing up and drawing her attention. Her brown eyes looked troubled and distracted but she slid out of the booth at his instruction. "They're going for drinks. We just went for drinks. It's not a big deal."

"But Fay?" Hermione's face puckered into a frown. "I guess I just didn't see it coming."

Draco held the door open for her as winter's tendrils reached into the pub and pulled them onto Hogsmeade's icy streets. "I doubt even the most talented Seer could have seen us coming," he remarked. "How are Weasley and Fay any more surprising?"

Snow had begun to settle on Hermione's head, a few flakes dislodging when she nodded. "I suppose you're right," she conceded, wrapping her arms around herself to protect against the cold. "I'm going to head back up the castle if you want to come. It's too cold to be out."

Draco agreed when a blustery gust blew, chilling him to his core. They stuck close for warmth on the trip back up to the castle, shivering too hard to talk, and going their separate ways when the draughty Entrance Hall greeted them. He continued down into the even more frigid dungeons, behind the tapestry which led to the Slytherin Common Room and took his usual seat in front of the fireplace. He was a bit surprised to see Pansy sitting with Theo.

His ex-girlfriend had been completely baffled at his affections for Hermione, turning her nose up at the decision and spending time with her other circle of friends, the snottier Slytherin girls of their year. She looked up at him when he sat in his armchair, her legs crossed neatly at the ankle and angled slightly to the side.

"Long time no see, Pans," he said, unwrapping the scarf he had tied around his neck and resting it in his lap. "Keeping busy?"

"Busy enough," she sniffed. "I just had to get away from your mooning over that Gryffindor know-it-all. Honestly, with all the Slytherin girls at your beck and call I don't know why both of you decided she was the one to go for."

Ted rolled his eyes. "Maybe because she's not insufferably whiny and shallow like your tittering little friends," he said. Pansy let out a low hiss between her teeth which he ignored. "Besides, our attentions worked for Drake."

"Dumb luck," Pansy insisted, waving impending arguments away with a swish of her hand. "But what about poor old you, Teddy? Who's going to keep your bed warm?"

"I could always send Astoria your way," Draco smirked. His brows lifted when Ted looked to seriously be considering the offer. "Daphne would probably hex you into a Hufflepuff, you realise."

"But she's cute," Ted shrugged. Draco felt a familiar stirring of worry in his gut. Theo, though a gentleman when he wanted to be, had been known to be a bit aggressive with his women, taking what he wanted and leaving them out to dry. Though he had never forced anyone into anything they didn't want, he knew Daphne would be furious if he let Theo anywhere near her little sister.

"Mate, she's sixteen," Draco reminded him, keeping his face cool and voice low as a group of First Years skittered past. "Then there's Daph, too. And she'll probably sic Blaise onto you after she's done with you."

"Daphne can be persuaded," Pansy said, shaking her perfectly styled curls. Draco didn't want to know how his ex-girlfriend could persuade their friend, hiding a shudder at the possible methods Pansy could use. "Teddy needs someone to love, too, Draco. You can't keep them all to yourself. Let him have your scraps."

"I don't need anyone's scraps, Parkinson," Ted snapped, rolling his eyes at Pansy's face of mock hurt at his sharpness. "That said, Astoria is quite a pretty piece of witch."

Draco blanched. "I give up on trying to stop you on this ridiculous suicide mission," he said, standing quickly before he lost the Butterbeers he had consumed all over the Common Room. "Good luck keeping your bollocks when Daph finds out your plan, Ted. And Pansy, stop encouraging him."

"Don't be so greedy, Drakey," Pansy cooed and he grimaced at the nickname before turning on his heel and heading towards the library.

For all his book smarts, Ted could really be as thick as a brick when it came to relationships.

* * *

><p><em><strong>The Great Hall<strong>_

_**Tuesday, January 28**__**th**__**, 1999**_

_**7:45AM**_

Hermione's fingers pinched the corner of the newspaper, eyes roaming across the pages in search of Ron or Fay's name. She felt daft for being so preoccupied with the possibility that he might move on when she had already begun to do so a month prior, but curiosity still niggled at her. Would their pictures be smoothed all over the pages of The Daily Prophet and Witch Weekly soon? Would she even be able to glance at the headlines without seeing her ex-fiancé with his new witch?

She knew Ron hadn't liked seeing the photos of her and Draco from New Years Eve on papers across the country and her own double standards hit below the belt.

"I don't think I've ever seen you read the social pages," Ginny said, falling onto the bench beside her. The redhead topped off their cups with tea and helped herself to toast. "You looking for pictures of Ron and Fay?"

"Yes," Hermione admitted, closing the paper close with an elaborate sweep when her search came up fruitless. "It's incredibly petty of me to want to spy on their relationship. I moved on first but I don't want to see him moving on, particularly with Fay Dunbar."

"I thought you liked Fay," Ginny frowned. "But that's obviously beside the point," she added at Hermione's flat stare. "You haven't officially even moved on. Sure, a few photos have been taken of you out and about with Malfoy, but when Ron and Fay's pictures come out, it'll be clear that he's moved on romantically. You two only broke up a month or so ago so it's perfectly justified for you to feel a bit anxious."

Hermione nodded at her friend's words. "You're right," she agreed. "Of course you're right. I guess this is good in a way, Ron being seen with someone else romantically before I was. It might soften the blow if it does end up being Draco."

"Still don't get what you see in him," Ginny said. Hermione rolled her eyes and pushed the paper out of arm's reach. She had long since given up trying to sell Draco to her best girlfriend though the two seemed to have built up some sort of rapport with their insults. "But people will still have a field day with you and Malfoy. Wizarding world's darling and the poster boy for You-Know-Who an item? I suspect we'll be hearing about it for months after you get your arse into gear and make it official."

"It's not even unofficial right now, Gin," Hermione glared at her friend though her mind was elsewhere. She had been the one to put a stop to whatever romantic relationship had been developing between herself and Draco despite what her heart wanted, and now that Ron was about to go public with his new romantic endeavour, she wouldn't feel quite so slaggy. "Even if we _do_ start dating, I haven't a clue how it's going to work out. No doubt with the loss of friends and respect, I imagine."

That part was very true. Hermione was certain that, if she and Draco admitted their feeling for one another to the general public, she would no doubt be shunned by people she had considered her friends and become a media sensation for all the wrong reasons. The thought cast dispersions in her mind about whether or not it would be worth dating Draco. Ginny seemed to notice her brooding mood and placed a firm hand on her forearm.

"It doesn't matter what other people think, remember," Ginny said. "He might be an arrogant arse but you're still one of my best friends and I'll accept it. Harry will, too, and Ron'll come around. Who else really matters?"

"Why are you always so _right_ when it comes to _my_ relationship?" Hermione frowned after she let Ginny's words sink in.

"Natural gift," Ginny shrugged. "Put the paper away and eat something. Potions starts in half an hour and we're presenting our halfway results to Slughorn."

Hermione spooned herself some scrambled eggs and poured a goblet of pumpkin juice, pushing The Daily Prophet up the table towards Pavarti who had kept her eye on it. She and Ginny avoided conversation for the rest of breakfast, eating in a comfortable silence and meandering slowly down to the dungeons where their breath rose in frosted clouds and students shivered. Ginny dissolved away to talk with some of her other friends in the class, leaving Hermione to seek out Draco.

He was leaning against one of the cold stone walls, book propped open in his hand but his eyes were unfocused. She followed his gaze and saw Theo in what looked like a row with Daphne, Blaise standing slightly behind her. The witch had her hands on her hips, face a pretty scowl, lips moving rapidly. Theo looked unperturbed by her anger, shrugging at her words.

"What's happening over there?" Hermione asked as she joined Draco's relaxed position, their upper arms pressed together. He closed his book with a snap and smirked.

"Daphne just found out Ted plans to go after Astoria seeing as I want nothing to do with her," he explained. "She doesn't seem particularly enthusiastic about the idea, does she?"

"That's an understatement," Hermione muttered. "You turned Astoria down, then?"

"Not officially," he said, turning his steely gaze onto her. The intensity of his eyes made her want to shudder. "But I think she's getting the idea that my interests lie elsewhere."

Hermione was struggling to filter through possible responses, unable to settle on one when Slughorn arrived and opened the door with a wave of his wand. He instructed them all to sit at their usual benches and put a list of partners up on the blackboard. They were to be called out for five to seven minute meetings with the Potions Master who set himself up at his desk, summoning Pavarti and Daphne up first.

"I didn't realise Theo was interested in girls like Astoria," Hermione mentioned as she pulled her notes out of her satchel. They covered everything from the ingredients to the method of the potion making process, with detailed sketches of it in different stages and a lengthy analysis of how it had healed Draco's wounds. Her partner copied her movements with a smirk.

"Ted has a wide variety of tastes," he told her. "Though I doubt his intentions with Astoria are the same as they were when you were the object of his affections. She will require far less wooing, for one, and I don't think long-term commitment is on his mind."

Hermione's nose wrinkled. "Charming," she said and began to shuffle through her notes, ensuring everything was in precise order. She looked up towards Slughorn as Pavarti and Daphne resumed their seats and Ginny and Theo replaced them. She and Draco were to be presenting next and her stomach flopped around in her chest.

"Nervous, Granger?" Draco asked quietly, lips so close to her ear she shivered at the warm air. He chuckled. "No need. We're clearly the most prepared pair with what is undoubtedly the most successful potion of the bunch. And if not, it'll be the most impressive."

His words did nothing to quell the nervous butterflies who continued to beat their wings until Slughorn waved Theo and Ginny away, summoning Hermione with a crook of his finger. She rose, as anxious as she always was when due dates were upon her, and allowed Draco to lead the way to the front desk.

"Draco, m'boy, and Miss Granger!" Slughorn beamed. "Take a seat, won't you? Now, now, show me what you two have come up with thus far. Something spectacular, I'm expecting?"

Hermione saw Draco's mouth open to begin the explanation but nerves overtook her and words began to spill out of her mouth faster than she could think. "Oh, yes. Since the conclusion of The War, there is no doubt that there will be an increase of people suffering from cursed scarring, damage which cannot be eradicated by any potion or spell developed thus far, that we know of. As there hasn't been much of a need for this sort of remedy, no magical medical institution has devoted manpower to figuring out a potion which can heal these curse wounds completely."

"As we both played major parts in the fighting, though on opposing sides, we decided to work on a potion that would do just that," Draco cut in, glancing at her with an amused smirk from the corner of his eye. "We based our first batch off an ancient healing potion, one of the first we believe. Gra-_Hermione_ worked on that portion. We then altered the recipe with more potent ingredients and I researched wandwork additions to the elixir. Our first attempt reached completion and we tested it with highly promising results."

"We both wrote up our own reports, copies of our results, our methods," Hermione said, handing the compiled notes to the professor.

"This sounds like quite a complex venture, you two," Slughorn said, thumbing through the parchment. "I'd have expected no less, of course," he added with a short, booming laugh. "Very good, very good. Should it be successful then I believe it would be safe to say you would be two of the brightest young potioneers in the country!"

Hermione felt her cheeks pink at his praise once Slughorn dismissed them. She hid a jump when Draco guided her back to their bench with a careful hand on her lower back, still not used to the contact. He had never touched her so intimately in public before.

"Told you there was nothing to be nervous about," Draco said when they resumed their seats, books open in front of them but nothing to work on. "Sluggy loves you. No doubt he'll try and collect you after the year's done. Keep you in his back pocket."

"Jealous, are we? If I recall correctly, you tried to crash his Christmas party in our sixth year," Hermione smiled at him when he scowled at the memory. "But don't worry, from what I recall the party wasn't particularly worth gatecrashing."

"Blaise told me you spent your evening running from McLaggen, Granger," Draco teased and she grimaced at the memory of how handsy her fellow Gryffindor had gotten, his desperation to get her into a dark corner for just a few moments. "Wonder if he'll be at any of the future Slug Club parties."

"Hopefully by then I'll have someone on my arm to warn him off," Hermione said, looking straight at Draco's face with Gryffindor courage shining from her eyes. He looked shocked for a brief moment before his face curled into a grin.

"That was almost saucy, Granger," he said in a low voice that made her stomach flip. "Don't speak to loudly or people will start to get ideas about us."

"And?" Hermione said, feeling a bit sick with bravery. She had faced off against some of the darkest wizards and witches of their time but confronting her feelings was infinitely more scary to her.

"Are you insinuating what I believe you to be insinuating?" Draco asked, leaning in closer so there was no way any of their classmates could eavesdrop.

She took a deep breath and angled herself so their knees pressed together beneath the tabletop. "Ron is preparing to make whatever sort of relationship he is developing with Fay Dunbar very public. That announcement will come out sometime this week, I'm assuming. If he is the first to publicly move on from our relationship, it will mean I'm free to move on romantically, as well."

"If you're telling me we can start publicly seeing each other then you should start working on your idea of romance, Granger," Draco teased but she could see his eyes were bright. "I love it when you talk clinically like that."

"Well, there you have it. My proposition," she said as the bell tolled for the end of class. They gathered their books and stood, walking from the frosty classroom together. "I suppose we'll have to wait until next week to go completely public, but if you're willing to try as well, I'd like to start seeing you. Officially, that is. It might make things a bit less awkward when you're hanging around my dormitory topless."

"Snogging you in your dormitory whilst topless, I think you mean," Draco said so no one but she could hear them amongst the throngs of students. "I've waited this long so I think I can wait another week, Granger."

In her chest, Hermione's heart rate quickened and her fingers tightened around the books she was carrying close to her chest. "Good," she said firmly. "That's good."

"Don't sound too enthusiastic. I might just have to turn around and steal Astoria off Ted if you keep up like this."

"Do that and I'll run straight to Theo," Hermione countered. She caught the flare of his nostrils before he collected himself. "Jealous doesn't suit you, by the way."

"Cute, Granger," he snarked. "Nott isn't as good as me, anyway. You'd be begging me to take you back after an hour."

"Sure, sure," Hermione waved at him as she ducked into her Charms lab, beaming once her back was turned.

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><p><strong>AN: I won't lie, I'm not 100% happy with this chapter, but I've kept all you lovely people waiting long enough that I felt I had to get this update out. **

**Please R E V I E W**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: I have plenty of excuses as to why this took so long, but I won't bore you with them. Also, I'm sorry that this is such a short chapter. It's more of a filler than anything. Thank you to everyone who has been so patient with me and my sporadic uploading!**

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><p><em><strong>Hermione's Dormitory<strong>_

_**Saturday, February 1st, 1999**_

_**9:00AM**_

Hermione beamed at the front page of The Daily Prophet where, in large lettering, the headlines screamed ROMANCING RONALD. There was only a brief snippet of the page long article on her former fiancé which continued in the social pages, but beneath the glaring headline was a photograph of Ron. As the image moved, he slung his arm around the shoulders of Fay Dunbar and his face broke into a lazy grin, oblivious of the cameras. Though she was pleased that the relationship had been revealed, thereby making it easier for her and Draco to go public, too, the happiness she wore was a result of seeing Ronald look so ecstatic at his new witch.

She decided not to read the full story, content with just seeing how happy Ron was. Draco had owled her the evening prior, a short note in his elaborate script, setting up a study session for them in the dungeons where they could work on their potion. Slughorn had complimented them on their efforts, promising he would report their findings to someone in charge at the Ministry to produce the potion as a more common elixir, stocking it at wizarding hospitals across the world. She knew Draco was overjoyed at the idea, though in response all he had done was shrug and offer the Potions Master a quiet smirk.

Hermione was quite pleased with the result, too, always happy to help others. Clad in jeans with her feet tugged snugly into boots and two sweaters encasing her body, she felt brave and warm enough to brace the hallways. A few of the students who had obviously already read the newspaper cast what she took to be encouraging smiles. Draco was already waiting, the initial stages of their assignment bubbling away with another set of ingredients lined up beside a board and knife.

"You saw the paper, I'm assuming," Draco said when she walked in. "Either that or they've just announced another edition of Hogwarts, A History."

Hermione rolled her eyes and joined him at the workbench. "The first," she said and picked up one of the sharp knives, beginning to finely slice some fluxweed. She focused all her attentions on not cutting away the tips of her fingers. Her body began to gratefully adjust to the heat of the cauldron that washed over her when she leaned to deposit the fluxweed inside, stirring it three times and returning to her seat. "You saw it, too?"

"Obviously," he said, leaning back in his own chair and looking at her from the corner of his eye though he faced the cauldron. She caught his eye and watched his face twist into his usual smirk as he slung an arm around the back of her chair. "So?"

"So what?" Hermione countered.

"Playing dumb really doesn't suit you, Granger. I don't think you could ever play anything other than the bookworm."

"You certainly do know how to woo a girl," Hermione muttered. "We can't just immediately come out as a full couple. I mean, we've already been seen publicly on a couple of occasions, photographed at your mother's event, but it'll look suspicious if we appear as a fully formed couple the day after Ron and Fay are seen going out. Everyone'll think we've been together for a while."

"Haven't we? Privately, of course. Or do you make it a habit to make out with all of your male friends?"

Hermione sighed. "I suppose," she conceded. "But no one needs to know that. Look, you mightn't be overly concerned with how you appeal to the public eye, but I suppose that's one of the few things I share with your mother. I don't want to come off...slaggy to the world. And after we do go public, I'm sure people are going to be under the impression that you've cursed me or I've completely lost my marbles, so we're going to have to convince plenty of people that you haven't magicked me into this state."

"Something tells me you're not the spontaneous sort," he drawled. "You should live in the moment some more."

"And if we were living in the moment at the present time then I'm certain we would be doing something wildly inappropriate for a Saturday morning study session," she chided.

"Never stopped you before."

"Draco," she urged. "I want us to work. I want to have a relationship with you and I want us to be able to go out in public without people thinking that you're some horrible monster who has Imperiused me into dating you. But to do that, we have to act logically and sensibly. It isn't as though we can just snog in the middle of the Great Hall and instantly convince everyone we have genuine feelings for each other."

"So, what you're saying is there'll be more waiting?" he clarified, letting out a vicious exhale when she nodded. "Damn you, Granger. If you were any other girl, I would have shagged you months ago and left it like that, rather than letting you string me along for months on end."

"I'm not stringing you along, Draco," Hermione said, turning her body so her knees pressed against the outside of his thigh and reaching for his hand to hold tightly in her own. "Look, I'll make a deal with you. Two weeks, and that's it. Two weeks to convince people that I'm not entirely barmy and you're not some psychopath and then we can appear romantically involved. It'll be Valentine's Day and there's a Hogsmeade trip that weekend."

"Valentine's Day?" Draco snorted. Despite his disdainful tone, Hermione realised he had linked their fingers and pressed their palms together, rubbing his thumb against the back of her hand. "Granger, I've never once in my life taken a girl on a legitimate date, let alone a first date on sodding Valentine's Day."

"You're such a romantic," she said dryly. "It's easier that or you can wait another week longer."

He gave a tremendously melodramatic sigh and pushed his free hand through his hair. "Fine," he grumbled after a few long moments. "Two weeks but I refuse to go anywhere near Puddifoot's."

"Too bad," she shrugged. "Already book our table. You know how dreadfully hard it is to get into Madame Puddifoot's on Valentine's Day, I'm sure."

"You're going to be the death of me, witch," Draco hissed through clenched teeth. He extracted his hand from her grasp to stand and stir their potion.

Hermione tucked her legs beneath her on the chair with knees tucked beneath her chin, arms wrapped tightly around herself to keep some of the warmth in. Inside, she was beaming, though a niggling part at the back of her mind screamed caution. She rubbed at her tired eyes and hid a yawn, trying to quash the siren in her head warning her of the possible dangers that might eventuate when the relationship became public. For the past week, vivid nightmares had haunted her whenever she rested her head on a pillow, torturous images of Draco standing idly by whilst she relived her assault at Bellatrix's hands, Voldemort's cruel laugh echoing in the background. She had managed a weak two and a half hours of sleep the night prior and had woken before dawn and instead spent the time waiting anxiously for The Daily Prophet.

"You look exhausted," Draco said when his seat was resumed. "I'm hoping it's because you had a solid night of partying."

"Not likely." Hermione stifled another yawn behind her hand. "Didn't sleep well." She hoped she wouldn't have to explain her nightmares to him, that something would distract him and change the course of their conversation. Her prayers were answered when two raised voices could be heard from the corridor.

"I don't care if she likes you, Theodore," Daphne said loudly, footfalls approaching loudly. "She's sixteen and I'm not going to let my little sister anywhere near you. You might be one of my best friends but that doesn't mean I trust you with her."

"It's a date, Daphne," Theo's voice countered, equally as loud. They rounded the corner into the classroom, neither of them noticing Draco and Hermione listening to their argument. "It's not like I'm asking her to marry me or jump into bed with me."

"You better bet your wand you're not asking her to jump into bed with you," Daphne said and Draco let out a snort of laughter, attracting the attention of his fellow housemates. "It isn't funny, Draco. My sister is only sixteen and on top of my seventh year, I don't need the extra concern that she's going to jump into bed with Casanova over here!"

Draco sobered up immediately at Daphne's fierce glare. "Daphne," Hermione said, "you should give Theo a bit of credit." Theo harrumphed triumphantly but Daphne retrained her icy stare to silence him. "Of course, there would have to be some level of concern from you, Daph, but your sister is old enough to start dating and it isn't like the age difference is _huge_."

Daphne pursed her lips, looking between Hermione and Theo a few times whilst she considered the Gryffindor's opinion. After a few moments, her face lit up. "Fine," Daphne said. "You can go on a date with my sister, but I'll be there too."

Hermione watched the colour immediately fade from Theo's face. Beside her, Draco's smirk was as wide as the Cheshire Cat's. She jabbed him with his elbow. "You're joking, right?" Theo demanded of Daphne who gave a curt shake of her head.

"Blaise and I'll go with you to Hogsmeade," she continued. "A double date, if you will. I believe you were intending on going for the Valentine's Day trip, correct? We'd intended on staying behind, but if you're going into the village, it'll be easy enough for us to tag along."

For one of the first times, Hermione saw Theo look flustered, spluttering and pale. "Your sister will never agree to this," he said.

"Good thing she's my little sister and I can make her do whatever I want," Daphne said flippantly. The Slytherin witch meandered over to Draco and Hermione, pulling up a stool on her way and settling it on the opposite side of the cauldron. Theo continued to gape from the doorway for a moment before copying her actions. "I saw the headlines this morning, Hermione. I take it you're not too distraught about the latest development."

"No," Hermione said and shook her head. "A bit relieved, to be honest. It means I'll have a lot more freedom, and Ron seems happy, too. That's what matters."

Daphne gave a soft smile, her eyes darting between Hermione and Draco with a small, knowing smile. "Of course it does," she said. "As long as you're happy, too."

"Ginny and Harry warned me that it was going to be happening on the last Hogsmeade visit," Hermione admitted. "Though I suppose I had already moved on so it wouldn't be right for me to judge." She felt a flush of colour rise to her cheeks when Draco sniggered beside her.

"Do you have any nice and _private_ plans for the Hogsmeade weekend?" Theo asked, casting a sidelong glare at Daphne. She offered a sweet smile in return.

"Considering we'll be walking through Hogsmeade amongst throngs of students, I doubt privacy is on the list of things to expect," Hermione said.

"Maybe we'll see you on your date, Ted," Draco smirked. "Chaperones and all."

Theo scowled at his best mate who continued to grin, unaffected. "Ha, Drake," he said. "_Hilarious_."

Draco winked at him before returning his attentions to the potion. Hermione peered over his shoulder into the cauldron, noticing there had been no real changes in the elixir and acknowledging that there probably wouldn't be for at least another day or two. "Looks like our work is done here, Granger," Draco said. With a flourish, he waved his wand and vanished away the mess they had made. Another move and their cauldron disappeared into the classroom where the Potions Master kept all works in progress. "We'll leave you two to plan your double date."

Theo expelled a breath of air between his teeth, the sound coming out a hiss. "Cheers."

Hermione waved goodbye to her friends over her shoulder and felt the small pressure of Draco's hand on her lower back, guiding her out the door. It remained for a few minutes as they emerged from the throngs of the dungeons. She felt the cool absence when his limb dropped back to his side whilst other students milled around. They walked up to her room in silence. Halfway there she noticed their paces matched exactly, his stride shortened and hers lengthened slightly to meet midway. The thought brought a colour to her cheeks.

"See you later, Granger," he said when they had stopped outside her dormitory. There wasn't a student in sight, most in their common rooms or the library studying for exams or taking a walk in the brisk weather.

"Guess so," she said and, on a whim, tilted her chin and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek.

The interaction stunned him for a brief second, cheeks pinking. But it only took a moment for him to recover and his smirk spread across his face. He offered a roguish wink that made her laugh before turning on his heel and returning to the dungeons.

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><p><strong>AN: Brief, I know. A (hopefully much) longer chapter will be coming in the next couple of days.**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: This took ages. I have plenty of excuses I won't bore you with. I'm going to stop promising updates in any time period because I get distracted and I'm very scatter brained at the moment and everything will turn up later than it should. Thanks for your patience with me, though.**

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><p><em><strong>The Great Hall<strong>_

_**Friday, February 14th, 1999**_

_**7:00PM**_

Through the abhorrent layers of pink confetti and bustling students, Draco spied Hermione at her table, pushing the food around her plate and in conversation with her redheaded friend. They had spent their whole morning together, having the same classes and free periods up until lunchtime on Fridays, just to cap off their last day as an unofficial couple. Despite himself and all the planning they had gone through (that was one thing he had learned about his witch – there was no such thing as too much planning), he could still feel a squirm in his stomach at what they were to be doing in the morning.

It wasn't so much the opinions of his peers and the public that he feared. Their disparaging comments were something he was well used to after his family's involvement in The War. He knew his friends, sans Pansy, were happy enough with his choice in partner, and that his mother would come to accept his decision as long as he was happy, though it may take some time. His father was the one person he was concerned about.

The old man would certainly be kept up to date on the social column, being around his mother, and Draco was certain his 'debut' with Hermione was to be big news in the pages of _Witch Weekly_. Although his sire had no real influence over what he could do, Lucius was still capable of being a cruel man when he wished, and though they may have faded, Draco still remembered the scars on his back. He still wasn't worried for his own safety, but rather that of the witch he was to call his girlfriend in just a few hours.

"Stare any harder and you might burn a hole through her," Blaise said in his ear whilst refilling their goblets with pumpkin juice. "And that might put a dampener on your _activities_ for tomorrow."

Draco rolled his eyes at his best friend's lewdness though bit his tongue when it came to reprimands. Blaise was sandwiched between Draco, who wasn't interested in conversation that dinnertime, and his girlfriend. Daphne was too focused on Astoria and Theo, the couple sitting across the table. Draco heard her commenting to Blaise one how much she disapproved of the relationship, how disappointed in her sister she was, how frustrated at Theo the whole situation made her. Blaise was nodding at all the right times, but Draco was sure his mind was elsewhere.

"I'm sure whatever Granger and I get up to won't be anywhere near as exciting as your plans for tomorrow," Draco taunted, drinking from his goblet. "Have you and Daph colour-coordinated your outfits yet? You don't want to end up with the wrong Greengrass."

Blaise's eyes narrowed and he let out a quiet groan. "Don't remind me, Drake," he said. "When I thought of my first Valentine's Day date with Daphne as my fiancé, shadowing her younger sister wasn't high on my list of priorities. It was more a locked bedroom and rose petal scenario."

"Rose petals?" Draco snorted. "How romantic."

"Sod off."

"At least it isn't technically a Valentine's Day date," Draco said. "It's a The Day After Valentine's Day date, which makes it sound thoroughly unromantic."

"How helpful," Blaise said. "What've you and your witch got planned for this 'thoroughly unromantic' day, then?"

If he were to go fully into the plan Hermione had created for their first public outing as a couple, Draco was certain he'd be keeping Blaise in the Great Hall for many hours to come. She had figured out every nuance and come up with a back up for any possible obstacle they might encounter when, in essence, their date was going to be very simple.

"We've got a booth at The Three Broomsticks for lunch and then I imagine we'll shop around for a while. Very exciting, I know. I haven't a clue how I'll keep up with it all."

"No presents?"

Draco arched a brow at his companion. "Can you really see Granger lugging a bunch of flowers and a box of Honeydukes' favourites around for the whole day?"

"No," Blaise conceded. "But you always got Pansy something."

"Because I was fourteen and wanted a shag."

"Always the romantic," Blaise said. The Great Hall had started to empty and they both stood up in a fluid motion. Theo and Astoria had already departed, Daphne in tow. "We should probably get back to the Common Room before a war breaks out."

Draco nodded in agreement, allowing Blaise to lead the way. He looked back over to the Gryffindor table one last time. Hermione was looking in his direction, rolling her eyes at the smirk he gave her over the heads of their peers. She reciprocated with a little wave before he emerged into the Entrance Hall, following Blaise down towards the dungeons.

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><p><em><strong>Hermione's Dormitory<strong>_

_**Saturday, February 15th, 1999**_

_**11:00AM**_

Hermione did up the last two buttons on her coat as Draco arrived in her living room, knocking on the wall to announce himself. Scarf in hand and bag in tow, she went out to greet him. Winter was still upon them, a thick layer of snow settling overnight and The Daily Prophet promising frigid temperatures all across Britain for the day. There was another bout of snow promised for the afternoon, so Hermione tucked her scarf around her neck and into her coat tightly, another in her bag.

Despite her placement in Gryffindor, her stomach fluttered with nerves as she approached Draco. Every detail had been so precisely planned so nothing would go askew and their relationship would avoid derailment before it had even properly begun, but the one thing neither of them had been able to successfully evaluate was how the public and their peers would react. She was already aware that Draco had serious concerns about how his father was going to react, which certainly didn't help with her worries.

"You think too much," Draco said as a greeting. He was leaning against the wall, hands in his coat pockets. His hair needed a trim, a persistent section at the front falling into his eyes no matter how many times he pushed it away. The effect was a boyish one, making him seem far more approachable and detracting from the coolness of his gaze.

"That's why I'm top of our class," Hermione said and he rolled his eyes.

"Our carriage awaits." Draco gestured out the archway and down the stairs. She was grateful of the heating charm he remembered to place upon them as they walked along towards the Thestral drawn carriages, shoes crunching through the snow. Her heart was fluttering in her chest, a bundle of nerves beating in her stomach. There were a few students milling about towards the carriages though they paid no attention, instead focusing on getting to Hogsmeade and to the warmth of the shops.

They began their ride, neither acknowledging that they could view the tangled beasts that drew the carriage, but at the same time both knowing the other was able to see them. With a new layer of snow beginning to fall, they hunched close together, sharing their warmth. Draco kept his arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her even closer against him.

Once they had pulled up to Hogsmeade where the carriages would deposit the students and return to the castle, it was clear that they were to have an audience. Groups of friends were gathered in wait for the other members of the excursion to arrive from Hogwarts and a few couples waited about, too, deciding where to go.

The bunch of nerves in Hermione's stomach exploded. Sure, she and Draco had been seen together more often than not for the past two weeks, but it had been in an entirely platonic way. But now, he was standing and opening the door of the carriage so they could introduce themselves as a _couple_. There had been enough whispers flying about whilst they openly displayed their friendship, both ignoring the rumours and continuing on in their plan.

With a quiet _thump_, Draco jumped from the coach and landed in the snow. "Chicken?" he crowed at her when she hesitated to follow, holding out his hand to help her down. A few of the other students were watching the newcomers. "Come on, Granger. I've seen you survive much scarier things than this."

Though his tone was light, Draco's eyes were heavy with implication at the 'scarier things' she had endured. For a moment, her mind flashbacked to Malfoy Manor. Her on the floor. Bellatrix. Laughing. Cackling. Slicing.

Hermione took a deep breath and beamed down at her companion, placing her hand in his own and allowing him to help her down in a graceful move. Rather than relinquishing his hold, Draco instead laced his fingers between her own and clasped her hand tightly, giving it a small squeeze for good measure. The action did not go unnoticed by the others who began dissolving into whispers. A few even pointed.

"That wasn't so bad," Hermione nodded and Draco gave a murmur of agreement. The heating charm he had placed on the carriage had worn off and she shivered as a flake of snow landed against her cheek.

"We'll find somewhere warm until it's time for lunch," Draco suggested as they passed by Madam Puddifoot's. There was a long line of freezing couples waiting outside for a table to free up, and through the front window, Hermione could see golden cherubs floating above tables and an overwhelming number of bright red and pink roses scattered about. "If you think you can get me in there then your spot as Valedictorian must be getting shaky, Granger."

Hermione looked up at him and scrunched her nose. "Trust me, you couldn't pay me enough to get me in there."

Draco smirked. "I knew there was a reason I fancied you," he said, releasing her hand to wrap an arm back around her waist. He pulled her close to his side and kissed her hairline. They continued to walk along the street, looking into the small shops that lined it to find somewhere to go until midday. "Come on, we'll go to Dominic Maestro's."

The music shop was one of the less frequented ones in the strip of shops, though it boasted a large collection of instruments, both magical and muggle, and a huge selection of music. It was looked over by the shop's namesake who seemed to be asleep behind the counter, snoring into his fluffy white beard.

"Come on," Draco whispered in her ear, nudging her forwards. "Favourite album?"

"What?"

"Your favourite album. What is it?" he asked again. "For all the time we've spent together, we certainly don't know a lot about each other."

"It's by a muggle band," Hermione said.

"So?"

She rolled her eyes and wormed her way from his grip, tiptoeing through the aisles and looking for the area of muggle vinyls. The selection was wider than she had anticipated and it took her a few minutes to sift through all the records under 'S' before the one she was looking for popped up. "Here," she said, passing it over to Draco who was hovering behind her.

"I've heard of this," Draco said, turning _Bookends_ by Simon & Garfunkel over in his hands to read the track listing.

Hermione continued to sift through the stacks of records as she spoke: "My parents used to play it all the time. It was the main thing I listened to when I was growing up. They adored it. I lost my copy after last year so I haven't listened to it in a while, but I think it'll always be my favourite."

Draco was silent for a few moments whilst she continued looking at the titles her parents had raised her on. "I'll buy it for you," he said. Before she could begin to protest, he had taken it to the counter and was gently trying to rouse the old shopkeeper.

"You don't have to do that," she urged, but he was already depositing coins on the counter and passing them across to the lethargic owner who wrapped the parcel up with a quick flick of his wand, held between wrinkled fingers.

"Too late," Draco said, handing her the record wrapped in a sheet of brown paper whilst they walked out of the shop. Behind them, Dominic Maestro began to snore quietly. "Happy Valentine's Day, Granger."

Ignoring their location, the number of students and happy couples milling about in the snow, Hermione tossed her arms around Draco's neck and pressed her lips against his. He staggered backwards a step with the force but soon regained his footing before they tumbled into the snow. "Thank you," she breathed, getting embarrassingly teary at the small gesture he had bestowed.

She had been devastated when she realised her Simon & Garfunkel record had been taken by her parents on their journey to Australia and that she would never see it again, so just having it and being able to listen to the music, remembering all the happy times she and her parents had enjoyed together was a blessing.

"I'll have to buy you presents more often," Draco smirked as they disengaged from one another, though their hands remained linked. "And if you had any ideas of backing out of going public, I think you just shattered them with that little display. It seems we had a bit of an audience."

Hermione felt her cheeks grow hot and she looked out upon the people who were on the street. A few had stopped to watch her and Draco's display, some still glancing over their shoulders as they walked away. "Oh, God," she muttered. "How mortifying."

Draco rolled his eyes. "You'll survive. Besides, it wasn't a bad snog."

That comment earned him an elbow to his ribs. "Come on," Hermione said, pulling Draco along and trying to ignore the sceptical looks of people around her. "It's almost midday. We don't want to lose our booth."

The Three Broomsticks was crowded and warm, pints of Butterbeer on every full table. Madam Rosmerta looked up from behind the bar when Hermione and Draco entered, waving them through and pointing to the only vacant seat on the premises, a small booth in the rear corner. It was away from the main lot of tables, significantly quieter. Hermione took her seat whilst Draco went up to the counter to order their lunch, returning with two foaming mugs of Butterbeer. She wrapped her fingers around the glass to defrost her fingers and took a deep drink.

"Stop me if I'm being invasive," Draco said, breaking the silence between them. "What happened to your parents, Granger?"

Hermione looked at him with her brows raised, chewing the inside of her cheek. She hadn't spoken about her parents with anyone since the end of The War. After the funerals and the cleanup had largely been done, she and Ron ventured to Australia briefly in the hopes of retrieving her parents and restoring their memories. Their expedition had been fruitless, however. They had been unable to bring back any life Wendell and Monica Wilkins may have had before their sporadic move to Australia and Hermione was forced to return to England without her parents and her heart in tatters. The wound was still healing, but it was something she was aware Draco should know about.

She took a shallow breath in and returned her drink to the table. "Before The War really broke out, when Harry and Ron and I had decided that we weren't coming back to Hogwarts and that we were going to go and destroy Voldemort's horcruxes, I was certain I was never going back home. And I knew that after we left, the Death Eaters would go after my parents for information about where I was. Your father knew what they looked like. _You_ even saw them back in our second year and I knew torture would be on the table and their death would be guaranteed. So I _Obliviated_ them."

Madam Rosmerta arrived with their food and a pitcher of pumpkin juice for the table, interrupting her story for a few minutes. "I didn't expect to survive it all," she continued when the inn's owner had returned to the bar. "I thought that it'd be better for my parents if I had never existed rather than to hear that I had died. So I erased myself from their memories. I gave them new identities and sent them to Australia. When it was all over, just before we all came back to school, Ron and I travelled to Australia to see if I could reverse the spell. It was a pointless trip, though. I couldn't reverse it."

Her throat felt thick and shoulders heavy with the weight of their conversation and she looked to her food for a distraction. "This looks great," she said. "I'm starving."

"Granger," Draco said, tone still serious. She pushed the food on her plate around whilst feeling his intense gaze on her, never wavering. "Granger," he repeated. "_Hermione_." As it always did, his use of her first name roused her attentions. The hand he extended across the table to grasp hers helped steady her mind and focus her on him. He swallowed thickly and opened his mouth to say something before snapping it shut.

"It's okay," she assured him, anticipating his words and squeezing his hand. "Forget it. Let's just eat and not spend our first date talking about things like that."

He looked at her a moment longer before his eyes lost some of their brooding darkness. "Favourite book?"

They spent the rest of their meal tossing their favourites back and forth. Hermione quickly learned Draco's favourite colour to be similar to Ravenclaw blue, his favourite food was lemon tart and his favourite time of day to be just after midnight, when the stars were out and the sky was bright but everyone around him was asleep. The lunch rush was well over when they finally exited the tavern, Hermione no longer caring who saw Draco's arm slung casually over her shoulders and the way they walked in sync. They were continuing to discuss their favourite foods when she realised he had led her to a completely empty Tomes and Scrolls.

Though it wasn't unusual for the bookstore to have few patrons, for it to be entirely devoid of customers was an odd sight. Hermione frowned up at Draco who just smirked in response.

"Pick out whatever you like," he said, removing his arm from her shoulders and prompting her with a hand on her lower back. "The store is ours for as long as we want. Pick out whatever you'd like and it's on me."

"You've got to be joking," Hermione said, though a balloon of excitement had burst in her gut and was trickling through her body.

"It's my Valentine's Day gift to you, Granger," he said. He nudged her forward again with more pressure. "Go ahead."

She took a few more steps into the store she frequented so often and looked back over her shoulder at Draco for one last sign of affirmation. He raised his eyebrows and nodded. With that, her resolve crumbled and she allowed herself to get lost in the piles of books on offer. It didn't take her long to amass a large selection and when she voiced her concerns to Draco that it was too much, he waved her worries away and paid for the first bundle before she could protest again.

By the time Hermione had finished her search, there were three large piles teetering on the counter. "I can't believe you're doing this," she said as he handed over the payment to an eager shop assistant. "How did you even get the store empty just for us?"

"Believe it or not, Granger, but not everyone sees a bookshop to be a romantic place to spend Valentine's Day," Draco said with a smirk. He paid a final delivery fee so they wouldn't be lugging the books back to her common room, the witch behind the counter assuring them that they would be up at the castle before the couple returned.

Hermione thanked the shop assistant and let Draco lead her out. With the days still short, light seemed to be fading fast from the little wizarding village. A few couples still milled about but the threatening sunset sent most back towards the carriages and up to the warmth of the castle. Draco let his arm fall around her shoulders again so they could share some warmth though her toes still felt like icicles inside her boots. Most people had seen then during the day at one point or another so the stares and whispers were becoming less frequent, but as they joined the line for the carriages to take them back to Hogwarts, a few people turned to look.

"You'd think they have better things to do today than gawk at us," Hermione sighed, suddenly finding her shoes very interesting as a blush bloomed across her cheeks. "I thought everyone would have realised something was going on from the last two weeks."

Draco had been a perfect gentleman since they had agreed to take their relationship public and had spent the past two weeks walking Hermione between classes and proving to the rest of the school that he didn't have to be a total ass all of the time. Many had seen the action as a bridging between the two rival sides and had been willing to accept the platonic relationship that had been forming and within three days they had been able to completely avoid scrutiny from their peers. However, their romantic connection did not seem like it would be as readily accepted. Hermione was already dreading the morning headlines.

He helped her into their carriage as it pulled up, moving into the seat beside her and propping his feet upon the bench on the opposite side. "You're still thinking too much," he complained, hands shoved deeply into his coat pockets. "Maybe we should've come up with a potion to help turn your brain off."

"_Ha_," Hermione said and rolled her eyes. "I happen to enjoy thinking the amount that I do. It's certainly aided me in besting you in every single class since our first year."

"I don't think I'll ever be able to forgive you for that," Draco said, taking one hand out of his pocket and moving his arm so it rested just behind her shoulders. "But I suppose I'll just have to beat you in Potions this year to remedy the situation."

"You wish," Hermione countered as the carriage came to a smooth stop. She leapt out first, landing carefully in the snow. Her footprints vanished beneath Draco's larger stride as he copied her movements and they began to walk up towards the castle. "You're not going to get a higher grade than me."

"Sluggy loves me," Draco said. "Slytherin favouritism and all that. Plus, I'm a bloody good potioneer and you know it."

"And I'm Harry Potter's best friend," she said. "Plus, I've been a member of the Slug Club since sixth year which gives me an obvious one-up on you."

"Have fun kissing Slughorn's arse, Granger. I'll impress him with my knowledge and skill instead."

"Of course you will," Hermione said as they made their way out of the courtyard and into the Entrance Hall, letting the warmth soothe their frozen bones.

"You patronise me now but you'll see," Draco said. "Come on. I'll walk you back to your dormitory."

"How chivalrous," she smiled and nudge him with her elbow. In return, he let his hand slip around hers, the action making her stomach do flips.

With Ron, the romantic gestures had been welcome but everything had felt sloppy and second-nature. After being best friends for so many years, the transition to boyfriend and girlfriend had taken them a little while to get used to, and even after they had gotten engaged, it felt a bit odd. He was perfectly happy to snog her whatever the situation, but it was the little things like hand holding that they had missed out on in the relationship. She would have never anticipated Draco to be so affectionate, particularly not in public.

"I think I can see smoke coming out of your ears," he teased. "Knut for your thoughts?"

Hermione bit her lip for a moment. "You're more...open about this than I'd have thought you would be," she said, feeling truth was the way to go. "About us, I mean."

"I know what you mean, Granger. Despite my lesser grades I _am_ quite intelligent," Draco smirked. "Besides, you're mine. I'm very possessive of what's mine. The curse of an over-spoiled only child, I suppose. But I want people to know that you're mine and that I have no intention of sharing."

Her brow furrowed. "Very possessive is accurate," she said then switched her tone. "Good to know you're a true romantic," she said dryly.

They reached the painting that led to her dormitory and he brought them to a stop. "I hope you had a good time," he said. "And I hope you enjoy your gifts."

Their bodies were close enough that should she desire to, simply turning her head slightly up would result in their lips touching. There was that heat, that electricity that flowed in the infinitesimal space between their clothes and it brought colour to her cheeks.

"I'm going to kiss you now," he said plainly and before her brain could even begin to formulate a sassy reply, he had tilted her chin upwards and pressed their lips firmly together. Just as she realised what was happening and her arms moved to lock around his neck, Draco pulled away. "Happy Valentine's Day, Granger."

He turned on his heel and disappeared towards the dungeons before Hermione had time to react and she was left standing by herself outside the dormitory for a minute before she came to her senses and skittered up to her room where the piles of books he had bought awaited her, wrapped up with an elegant emerald green bow.

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><p><strong>AN: Please REVIEW. I know Draco is OOC at the moment but keep in mind that this is largely from Hermione's perspective, with Draco's thoughts kept largely out of the story for this chapter.**

**Also, in GoF, Filch plays the waltz they dance to at the Yule Ball on a gramophone, and I'm assuming there are ways of listening to music in the wizarding world outside of the radio so I gave them vinyl.**


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: It's been almost 5 months since I last updated. Time got away from me. I fell behind in all of my projects but I promise I'm going to try my hardest to keep up with this particular one. **

**I've also decided to up the rating to M for language and potential situations later on. Enjoy!**

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><p><em><strong>The Great Hall<strong>_

_**Sunday, February 15**__**th**__**, 1999**_

_**7:30AM**_

Draco had woken early and slipped down to the Great Hall for breakfast before the rest of his peers had risen, his slumber disturbed by Theo's obnoxious snores and an anxiousness that ate at his stomach. Not one to usually be nervous, aside from a few instances such as when he first played Quidditch for his house in his second year, the feeling was foreign and he forced himself through it.

The Great Hall was almost entirely empty, with only a handful of other students. Two Ravenclaws sat at their table comparing notes and there was a small cluster of Hufflepuff first years jabbering on with one another in annoyingly high-pitched voices. Draco's upper lip curled as they dissolved into fits of shrill giggles and he poured himself another cup of coffee. There was the familiar sound of flapping wings above his head and he looked up from the croissant he had been picking at to see his owl swoop down, depositing a copy of The Daily Prophet beside his breakfast.

The fluttering in his chest returned as he unrolled the paper, rising to a peak which quickly dissolved at a look at the front page. He wasn't sure what he had been expecting, but there was absolutely no reference to his public appearance with Hermione the day before. Instead, the front page was dominated entirely by a photograph of Kingsley Shacklebolt opening a new wing at St. Mungo's, a short article written about it below the moving image.

Draco felt his brows knit into a frown and he opened up the paper, skipping past Quidditch results and news of the capture of more Death Eaters (which had been shunted to the fifth page because no one wanted to read about things like _that_ anymore) and onto the social column. The page was shockingly pink, the creative director obviously having too much fun with the Valentine's Day theme and layering on love hearts and cupids just a little too thick.

Weasley and his new witch dominated most of the page, walking hand in hand and smiling at the cameras that were capturing their images. A smaller box contained a picture of Blaise and Daphne, obviously caught in a moment when they weren't shadowing her little sister and instead locked in an embrace. Even Theo and Astoria featured, holding hands in a tiny picture near the bottom left corner.

The nervousness gave away to confusion. Returning to the front of the newspaper, Draco scanned each and every page of the Prophet, and it was only when he had reached the end for the second time that he came to the conclusion that there was absolutely no mention of he and Hermione. Something niggled at the back of his mind, his mother and father's conniving Slytherin ways.

The Great Hall had started to fill up slightly, though given it was a Sunday morning, there were still plenty of empty seats. Blaise sat down beside him and poured out cups of coffee for them both. "Ted needs to do something about his snoring before I do something about it for him," he said, rubbing his eyes and drinking half his cup in one gulp.

Draco rolled his eyes and tossed the paper to his best mate. "You and Daph are in there. The social pages. Something about being the wizarding world's best looking young couple."

Blaise's eyes lit up. "_Really_?" he said, flipping through the pages until he found the photograph of himself and Daphne, indeed captioned by an admiration of their appearance, as well as a note about how wealthy the couple was. "Sweet. Where are you and Granger?"

"We're not in there," Draco said, voice stained with frustration. "I suspect my parents had something to do with it. They've still got friends at the Prophet and I imagine they got the article pulled for some reason."

"Parents, eh?" Blaise said and shook his head. "What would we do without them? On the plus side, if you've decided overnight that you don't want to date Granger then no one needs to know you ever did."

"Have you been hanging around Pansy too much, Zabini?" Draco asked.

"No harm meant, Drake." Blaise held his hands up defensively, palms outwards. "Just a casual observation."

"Keep it to yourself next time," Draco said though there was no menace in his voice. "I'm going to find Granger and then write a letter to my parents. Props on being one half of the wizarding world's most attractive young couple."

"Later, Drake," Blaise called over his shoulder as Draco left the Great Hall. The corridors were still largely empty and he was able to weave his way through the halls and up to Hermione's dormitory in almost total solitude, passing one or two ghosts on his way and only three sleepy students. He knew his girlfriend was an early riser on every day of the week and was sure she would already be awake.

As he climbed up the stairs to her room he could hear music playing and the unmistakable sounds of someone moving around, confirming that Hermione was up and about. He made his footsteps more pronounced on the last few stairs, though as they were stone there was still little noise from his approach. He knocked loudly on one of the bookshelves beside the front archway, the sound making her jump and whirl around.

"Draco," she said, shaking her head. "You terrified me."

"What are you listening to?" he asked, nodding to the gramophone in the corner. Melodic tunes continued to flow around them with lyrics like poetry.

"The record you bought me yesterday," she said. "Good morning to you, too, by the way."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Pleasantries are a waste of time," he decided. "But good morning, Granger." He crossed the room to reach her in a few long strides and kissed her lips chastely. "Have you seen the paper yet?"

"Not yet. I was going to finish putting these books away and then get to it." Hermione gestured to one of the piles he had bought her yesterday. She made a move to continue tidying up but froze. "Why? Is it awful? What did they say about us?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"Nothing."

Hermione frowned and bit her lip. "What do you mean 'nothing'? They have to have said _something_."

"We're not in it at all. Blaise and Daph are, and so is Weasley and his witch. Hell, even Ted and Astoria made it. I think my parents had something to do with it."

"What could they possibly do?" Hermione asked. "And why would they do it?"

Draco lifted one brow. "You do realise my parents don't like you very much, right? They're determined that I'm going to marry a pureblood witch and restore my family's name."

He saw the hurt flicker briefly over Hermione's face but she recovered quickly. "So they're trying to erase any proof that we're together," she said and he nodded. "Are you going to do something about it?"

"I'm going to write to my mother. I know she must have been the one to contact the Prophet, though it was no doubt at my father's insistence. I can probably persuade her to let the Prophet publish us."

Hermione frowned. "This isn't going to be easy, is it?"

"Did you ever think it would be?" he asked. She shook her head. "Exactly, Granger. I'm going to send an owl off to my mother and with any luck there'll be an amended article in the next few days. And then the real fun can begin."

"Okay," she said, nodding. "See you at lunch?"

"We've all got to eat." He kissed her again and could feel the worry and tension in her lips. "It'll work out."

"Bye," she smiled and Draco turned on his heel, returning to the Slytherin Common Room to write a note to his parents.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Slytherin Common Room<strong>_

_**Tuesday, February 18**__**th**__**, 1999**_

_**8:00PM**_

Draco thumbed lazily through his Transfiguration textbook, trying to ignore the couples that surrounded him. Blaise and Daphne had decided they were going to throw an engagement party during the Easter holiday at her parents' estate and she was in full party-planning mode, Daphne bouncing ideas of Blaise who didn't seem to care in the slightest. Theo and Astoria were wrapped up in their own bubble as well, somehow having skipped the initial awkwardness that dominates most relationships and instead skipping straight to the inappropriately affectionate stage, embracing on the couch in full view of the rest of their house.

Pansy was the only one amongst them without a beau but she was equally as enthralled with Daphne and Blaise's party plans that she was ignoring Draco entirely. He sighed, shutting the book with a snap. "I'm going for a walk. You guys are sickening."

"Someone's cranky," Pansy cooed and smirked. "Say hello to Granger for us."

Draco ignored her and stalked out of the common room, frustrated over something he couldn't quite put his finger on. There had been no reply from his mother though he was certain his angry letter could not have been ignored, and the true reason for leaving the common room was that perhaps his owl would find him with a reply if he were outside. He had thought to grab his cloak from the back of his armchair before he left and now draped it around himself and fastened the clasp tightly as he slipped out the front door.

The sky was clear and the air freezing. He immediately grasped for his wand and cast a heating charm over himself, lest he freeze beneath the stars. Were Hermione not in a Magical Theory lecture, he would have gone to her dormitory rather than let the bitter cold attack him. The night was near silent, just the faint hooting of owls and the quiet breeze to disturb the hush. Hearing the approach of feathered wings, Draco looked up and saw one of his family's owls swooping down. The bird landed elegantly next to him, a letter tied around its foot. Immediately noticing his mother's personalised stationery, he reached forward and untied the letter. Once freed of its delivery, the owl took flight again, heading towards the Forbidden Forest as Draco hastily unrolled the note:

_Draco,_

_My apologies on getting your photographs removed from The Daily Prophet. Your father insisted that I write to a contact and demand their omission, insisting it would be horrifically embarrassing and further tarnish our family name by having those images plastered across the tabloids. However, I find it admirable that you are willing to go to such lengths to restore the public's view of us, and despite her obvious faults, Miss Granger is a suitable candidate for this position in both her physical and mental attributes._

_Hoping you are well,_

_Mother._

Draco wasn't sure what he should think of his mother's letter, but he was certainly gleeful that he and Hermione would finally be able to go public with their relationship. He checked his watch, a gleaming timepiece gifted to him on his seventeenth birthday, and discerned that if he walked slowly, he could meet Hermione outside her dorm and make it back to his common room before the curfew fell into place. He was certain his witch would like to hear about the development prior to the talk that would no doubt dominate the castle when the paper was released by morning and resolved to tell her. Gathering his cloak up and tucking the letter into his pocket, Draco left the frigid winter night behind and returned to the castle.

The castle was only slightly warmer than outside and there were only a handful of students on his way to Hermione's room. He took the last flight of stairs two at a time, spying Hermione's wild mane of curls slipping behind the painting which lead to her quarters. The canvas was about to shut when Draco extended an arm and pressed his palm to push it back open, calling out a quick, "Granger!" before Hermione had made it too far up the stairs. She turned at the sound, smiling softly when she saw him.

"What's up?" she asked, beckoning him up the stairs. She went to work fixing a pot of tea whilst he hung their cloaks up and moved to recline on the sofa.

"I got a letter from my mother this evening," he said.

Hermione's brow puckered. "That's nice. I got a letter from Harry this morning. Is sharing a record of our correspondence going to become a regular thing?"

"For the brightest witch of our age, you sure can be bloody dense sometimes," Draco said, rolling his eyes.

"You sure do know how to treat a girl." Hermione plunked the tray on the table, delicate teacups clinking against their saucers with the action. "Feet off the table."

"Yes, _mother_," he said. "I got _the _letter. The one from my mother. Issuing a total apology for getting our photos withdrawn from the Prophet." He paused, watched a smile spread over his witch's face. "She also extended her seal of approval, in a way."

The grin faltered. "In a way?"

Removing the letter from his pocket with a flourish, Draco began to read aloud: "I find it admirable that you are willing to go to such lengths to restore the public's view of us, and despite her obvious faults, Miss Granger is a suitable candidate for this position in both her physical and mental attributes."

Hermione lifted her eyebrows. "A suitable candidate? She makes it sound like I'm interviewing for a job." He saw her brows knit together in a frown. "She thinks you're using me," she said, traces of concern lacing her words.

"Granger, I'm not using you," Draco said. "Surely you've learned by now that I don't care about saving the Malfoy name."

She nodded once, slowly, and then, after a few seconds, again. But despite her apparent disposition, Draco could still tell his girlfriend was concerned. "I know you're not," she said. "I'm tired, Draco. I think I'm going to go to bed."

As she made her way to sand up from the sofa, he mirrored her movements, catching her hands. "Hermione," he said, dragging her attentions back towards him. "I am _not_ using you. I don't care about repairing my family's name. My mother is insane for thinking I would do something like that."

"Is she, though?" Hermione asked. "You've done pretty messed up things in the past, Draco."

He tightened his jaw. "In the past, yes. In the past, I was an arrogant, stuck-up elitist who blindly followed his father and was nuts enough to pledge allegiance to a psychopath. But you _know_ I'm different now. I'm not like that anymore."

She bit her lip, looked down at their hands which were still linked. "Draco, I'm tired. I want to go to bed."

"No," he said petulantly, gently pulling her back to him when she made a move towards her bedroom. "Not until you finish hearing me out and actually listen to what I'm saying." She let out a large breath of air and nodded, looking up at him with wide eyes.

"I don't care about what my parents think, about what my house thinks, about what the public thinks. For the first time in my life, I have the freedom and the opportunity to do what I want and I'm damn well going to take it. This," he gestured vaguely between their bodies, "is the strangest and one of the scariest things that has happened to me, okay, Granger? I lived with a murderous psychopath for a year, and this is still scary to me. Despite how much of prick I've been and how I've treated you in the past, I would never use you to restore something I don't care about, not anymore. I don't care about the Malfoy name, but I _do_ care about you."

She stood in silence for half a minute, digesting what he had said to her with watery eyes. He wasn't sure what to make of her reaction until she stood on her toes and kissed his cheek. "Goodnight, Draco," she said. "I'll see you in the morning."

Before he could react, she had raced to her bedroom and he heard the distinct clicking of a lock into place. Draco felt anger and regret and just sheer fury twisting in his gut, rising up his throat until his mouth was bitter with rage. He let the painting which lead to the Head Dormitories slam on his way back to the Dungeons, ignoring the fearful looks from the younger students he passed. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was pleased he was still able to instil fear into someone.

His friends were still gathered in the Common Room when he returned, laughing around the fire, but he made no move to join them. Theo called after him as Draco took the stairs to their dormitory two at a time, wanting to remove himself from everything as much as possible. Lee Harper was exiting the shared bathroom when he arrived.

"Out," Draco said. "Now."

His tone sent the other boy scarpering out the door clad in his pyjamas. Draco locked the door behind him, trying to take steady breaths and control himself. The techniques refused to work, though, and instead he let his fist find a mirror. Teamed with the instantaneous stinging across his knuckles, the shatter of glass brought him out of his rage.

"_Shit_," he said, shaking his hand. "Fuck."

There were fine shards of glass embedded in the skin and blood was starting to drip down his wrist. A few drops splashed onto the floor.

"Draco?" Daphne's voice sounded scared on the other side of the door. "Drake, are you okay? I'm coming in."

He didn't make a sound and refused to look up when the lock clicked and the door swung open. Instead, he moved towards his bed, holding his bloodied hand away from his body, clenching and unclenching it into a fist, wincing at the pain.

"Oh my god," Daphne was right beside him, reaching for his hand but he pulled it away. "Draco, let me help you."

"I'm fine," he said, but she caught his wrist and pulled it towards her.

"What has gotten into you, Draco?" she asked. He saw her cringe as she inspected the damage done to his hand. "I don't know how I'm supposed to get this fixed up."

"I can do it myself, Greengrass," he said.

Daphne stood, hands on her hips. "Listen to me, Draco, you might be able to go around acting all tough and manly around Blaise and Theodore, but when I come in here and find you've broken your hand from smashing a mirror, you damn well better talk to me before I hex it out of you." She resumed her seat and returned his hand to her lap, leaning down close and further assessing his injuries. "What happened?"

"I don't know, Daph," he said, feeling weariness settle in his bones. "My mother wrote to me, implied I was using Granger to restore the family name. I told her and it looked like she believed it was a possibility and I couldn't get through to her. And I came back here and I was just _so_ mad and I don't know what happened. She drives me fucking mental."

"Have you considered anger management?"

Draco scoffed. "That's your great advice? Anger management?"

"Well, it isn't exactly a normal situation, Draco," Daphne frowned. She finished dabbing at the blood around his knuckles. "I don't know what you should do. Just prove to her that you aren't using her."

"Easier said than done," Draco muttered.

"I don't know how I can fix your hand," she said. "I bet Hermione would know."

"Shame she thinks I'm a prick," he said dryly. "Thanks for the help, Daph. I'm going to go to bed so if you would please give me some privacy." He ignored how she recoiled at his tone, continuing to flex his hand.

"Maybe she's right in thinking that about you, Draco," Daphne said, shaking her hair out of her face. "I'll make sure Theo and Blaise don't disturb you."

He heard the door slam and shucked his clothes in favour of pyjama bottoms and a t-shirt, closing the curtains around his bed and wriggling beneath the covers. His hand throbbed violently and he made sure to keep it away from the rest of his body to avoid any pressure on it. At the sound of his roommates coming into the dormitory, Draco cast a silencing spell around his bed to block out their quiet conversation, pleased that they decided to leave him alone.

* * *

><p>Draco woke, slick with sweat, blankets tossed to the floor. Despite the perspiration that clung to his skin, he shivered in the night air and fumbled around in the dark for his sheets, forgetting the earlier incident with the mirror and sending pain spiralling through his hand. He managed to pull the duvet off the floor and pull it over himself, but the idea of getting more sleep was a ridiculous one. The few hours he had managed had been a swirl of nightmares, of torture and death and the destruction that he had seen. The worst of it had been just before he woke, images of his Aunt Bella torturing Hermione whilst he stood by. His now-girlfriend's screams still bounced around his skull each time he closed his eyes and after a half hour of staring at the canopy of his bed, he threw his sheets away and pulled himself from bed.<p>

After changing into something more appropriate for late night wanderings than pyjamas, he wrapped a cloak around his shoulders and slipped out of the Slytherin Common Room, past the dying fire and into the cool corridors of the castle. Opting for a close place to unwind, he chose the Potions classroom, figuring that if he was unable to sleep, he might as well work. His assignment with Granger still required most of his focus, and any of his spare time was spent in the Dungeons ensuring the project was perfect.

Though there was little work he could do on the potion without Hermione's consent, Draco still set himself up around their cauldron, observing the light simmer of the concoction and considering more adjustments they could make to improve its potency. At the creak of the door, he looked up, abandoning the spoon he was using to stir the mixture.

"Hi," Hermione said in a small voice. She looked exhausted and her eyes were rimmed red. "Draco-," she began before bursting into tears. He reached her in three strides and held her tightly against his chest as she sobbed.

"You better not be getting snot on this shirt, Granger," he said and she managed a laugh, albeit a watery one. "Don't cry."

She sniffed and pulled herself from his hold, wiping at her eyes. "I'm sorry I was so awful before. I trust you. I know you're not using me. I should never have acted like that."

"I don't blame you for it," he said. "I've been a right git since we first met and you have every right to believe the worst in me. You'll be lucky if I don't live up to those expectations."

"I don't want to see any bad in you, Draco," Hermione said. "I want to see the good that I know is there and I just want all the fighting to stop. I don't think I can handle it anymore. The past few years have been so awful and trying and destructive and I couldn't cope if we continued to be like that."

"Then we won't," Draco said. She smiled at him, looking relaxed, though still dishevelled. He noticed an absence of concealment charms when he saw a scar peeking up from the neckline of her sweater. "What are you doing up, anyway?"

"Nightmare," she said, fidgeting. "You?"

"Same. I tried getting back to sleep but I hurt my hand after I left your room and it's making things difficult."

Hermione's brow puckered and reached for his right hand. "Draco!" she said, looking at the damage. There was still some dried blood on his palm, extending as far down as his wrist, and the whole hand was swollen. He knew he should have cleaned the wound as soon as he injured himself but part of him wanted the pain, felt he deserved it. "What did you do?"

"Punched a mirror," he admitted.

"That explains the glass," she said. He winced when she pressed against the tender skin. "Let me clean it for you. I won't try and heal it completely but there should be enough in here for me to take the swelling down and hasten the process."

Hermione vanished for a moment, returning with two bowls. One was full of water, a washcloth hanging on the side, and the other had a set of tweezers inside. Placing his hand on the table, Hermione picked up the tweezers and began to extract the slivers of glass, ignoring his cringes. She worked in silence, leaning close to the injury, leaving him to his thoughts. It took twenty minutes to remove every shard, at which point she began to thoroughly clean the area with the sponge. He let a hiss of pain out through his teeth.

"Don't be such a baby," Hermione insisted though her touches softened. She disappeared again, flitting around the room and collecting different ingredients. Crushing them in a mortar, she carefully placed them along the wound. The pain disappeared almost instantly and she covered the whole thing up with a bandage she had managed to dig up. "Why did you punch a mirror?"

Draco swallowed. "I was angry. Furious. You weren't listening to me. You didn't want to be around me. And sometimes I just lose it and I caught sight of myself and I smashed the mirror.

"I'm so sorry," Hermione said. "I've been telling everyone not to judge you on your past, trying to get Harry and Ron to understand why I want to be with you and saying how much you've changed, but then I turn around and do this."

"I'll admit, it made me feel like shit," Draco said. "When you kicked me out tonight it's lucky a mirror is all that I broke. My temper isn't something I'm proud of."

Hermione put a hand to his cheek. "We don't have to think about that now. We should probably at least try and get some more sleep before morning."

It was nearing four o'clock and Draco was beginning to feel weary, but the thought of returning to his bed where the nightmares were was not a tempting one. Seeming to read his mind, Hermione took his uninjured hand in her own.

"Do you want to come back to my dormitory?" she offered, clearing away their cauldron and the mess her first aid had caused with a few flicks of her wand. "I think I might sleep better with someone there."

"That'll set the tongues wagging," Draco said, reaching and pulling her to him. He left a kiss on her hairline.

"I didn't think you cared about that," Hermione countered.

"I don't, but I thought you did."

"I do," she admitted, turning her head up and looking at him, "but I also care about getting a few hours of rest and making sure you don't put your hand through anymore glass. When we're not so tired and the circumstances are better, we should talk about it some more."

"Okay," Draco said, though he had no intentions of ever bringing up the incident again. His temper, the same rage he had experienced from his father, was something he tried to hide away, never wanting anyone to discover just how volatile he could become. But he was exhausted and he didn't want another fight, so he said, "Lead the way," and followed Hermione up from the dungeons and to her dormitory.

They shucked their coats and she continued into the bedroom. Draco was a couple of steps behind, feeling tense as Hermione climbed into bed, patting the other side in invitation. "Scared?" she asked, smiling at him.

"This'll be our first time in bed together, Granger," he said, winking at her. The gesture, an attempt to hide that he was in fact terrified, failed and Hermione's features softened. She tossed back the blankets on his side of the bed.

"Come on, Draco," she said.

He nodded, removing his shirt and lying it over the back of a chair. Following her lead, he hopped into bed. Hermione wriggled closer to him, back flush to his chest, turned her head to face him slightly. Taking the opportunity, Draco propped himself up and kissed her slowly, gently. She was the one to deepen the kiss, shifting so she was facing him, moving her hands to his hair. As much as he would have liked to continue and for the action to lead to other things, Draco didn't want it to be like this, but it took him a moment before he was really willing to pull away.

"Goodnight, Granger," he said, pressing a last chaste kiss to her lips.

"'Night, Draco," she sighed, cuddling into his chest. He would never have expected her to react that way to his kiss, but the chance to further dissect it was lost as his exhaustion overcame him.

* * *

><p>Hermione woke feeling better rested than she had in weeks, though her alarm said it wasn't even seven o'clock yet. Draco was snoring lightly beside her, soft snuffles in his sleep, face turned towards her. His hand was still bandaged though she could see it was swollen, needing more medical attention than hers. The bed was so warm and Draco's arm was across her waist, pinning her to the bed. She wriggled free, disturbing him. He let out a tired groan.<p>

"What time is it, Blaise?" he mumbled, eyes still shut, forearm pressed against them.

"A quarter to seven," Hermione grinned. "Do you and Blaise normally share a bed?"

Draco's eyes opened and he sat up, looking frazzled. "Granger?" he asked, paused, and the recollection of last night dawned on him. "You're a right sight better than he is in the morning."

"Good morning to you, too," she smiled. "You snore, by the way." Before he could reply, she slid out of the bed and into the bathroom, locking the door behind her. She showered quickly, pulling a bathrobe around herself before returning to her room. Despite knowing she had only managed a maximum of four hours of sleep, Hermione was happy, feeling alive, ready to start the day.

Draco was still lying in bed, though propped up and looking significantly more awake. His hair was still a mess, but his usual smirk was plastered across his face. "Sleep well?" he asked when she walked in. Hermione made sure not to notice his chest, how the Quidditch practices he had been so insistent on were paying off.

"I sure did," she said. "Did you?"

"Better than I have in ages," Draco admitted. He stood up and walked over to her, giving her a kiss. "But I should go back to my own dormitory before people see me sneaking out of here and it sets the rumour mill off. See you in class, Granger."

Hermione was sorry to see him go, but he was right in thinking that the students would have a field day if they caught him leaving her room early in the morning with crinkled clothes and messy hair. She changed into her uniform, ignoring the mess her hair had formed on her head, and carted her schoolbag down to the Great Hall for some breakfast.

As usual, the Hall was almost completely deserted, half past seven too early for most students to be up and about, even on a school day. Having forgone her usual routine of reading before bed the night before, too upset after her fight with Draco, she propped a book up on a pitcher of pumpkin juice and began to read, picking her way through some toast as she went. She saw a flash of orange as Ginny settled in beside her, pulling her book away.

"Post come yet?" she asked, pouring a glass of orange juice and loading her plate with scrambled eggs.

"No," Hermione replied, taking her book back but putting into her satchel. "Should be here any minute, though. There may be another Valentine's Day special in the Prophet."

"Oh?" Ginny said. "You and lover boy going to get your time in the spotlight?"

Hermione rolled her eyes at her friend's term. "Yes, _Draco_ and I might feature in there today."

"Wonder how Ron'll take it," Ginny said. "Not well, I'm guessing."

"Probably not. I've arranged a Floo Call with him and Harry for tonight to try and do some damage control," Hermione said. "Hopefully they won't feel the need to apparate here as soon as they read the news. _If_ it is in the news today."

As though on cue, they looked up at the sound of flapping wings, hundreds of owls overhead, dropping packages and letters and copies of The Daily Prophet at each table. A copy of the paper landed neatly beside Hermione's toast, and she unrolled it quickly, scanning the front page. Right in the bottom corner, she saw a small note from the editor, an apology, a quick message to say that they would be rerunning their Valentine's Day special the next day.

Hermione let out a long breath, pleased that she would at least have some time to talk to Ron and Harry prior to the big reveal of her relationship with Draco. She had been trying to coax them into having a better attitude towards the Slytherins as a whole, not specifying her reasons for doing so. Harry had been quite easily persuaded, trying to see the best in people after facing down so much horror over the past year, but Ron was still as stubborn as always.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Hermione's Dormitory<strong>_

_**Wednesday, February 19**__**th**__**, 1999**_

_**8:00PM**_

Having just placed the final touches on her Transfiguration essay, Hermione was feeling pretty good. She was expecting a call from her two best friends any moment, she was on top of her work, and had enjoyed her first good night's sleep in a very long time. She had made herself a cup of tea and was settling in front of the fireplace, flames crackling loudly, a blanket around her shoulders. Though she was keen to talk to her friends, there was still a small pit of dread in her stomach, fear over how they would react to the news that she was dating someone they had long since considered their schoolyard rival.

Right on time, Harry's face popped into the flames. "Hey, Hermione," he grinned. His glasses were slightly askew and hair a mess and he looked just like the same old Harry she had loved for eight years. "How's it going?"

Hermione beamed, forgetting any fear she may have had. "It's going pretty well, Harry," she said. "Ron there?"

There were sounds of a scuffle, Harry's face disappearing with a _pop_ and replaced by Ron's. "Hermione!" he said. "How are things?"

"Things are good over here," she smiled. "They're really good, actually. Getting ready to start my N.E.W.T preparation."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Sounds like a right treat. What did you want to talk to us about?"

The bubble reappeared in her stomach, squirming. She adjusted herself, crossing her legs and pulling the blanket around her shoulders a little tighter. "Well, you know how I'm all about inter-house unity and, particularly in this trying time, uniting everyone, no matter their past?"

"This doesn't sound good, Hermione," Ron said. "Blimey, you've done your bit for promoting inter-house unity by going to Malfoy's party. I'm surprised you got off so easily with that one."

Another scuffle, Ron's head disappeared and Harry's returned. "I think I know where this is going, but don't listen to Ron," he said, nodding for her to continue.

She spent a few seconds trying to find a way to explain herself before admitting the truth, but no matter what she thought of, it would come out sounding like a lie. "You'll find out tomorrow morning, but I thought it best to let you know before the Prophet told you. I've, ah, started seeing Draco. Romantically. We're dating."

Harry nodded and opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off with the reappearance of Ron's head. "Are you _mental_?" Ron asked. "_Malfoy_?"

"Yes, Ronald," she said, suppressing a sigh. She deemed herself foolish in thinking that he would take the news calmly. "_Draco_ and I are seeing each other." If she had been able to discern colour in Ron's face, Hermione was certain it would be rapidly changing colour from white to red to the almost purple shade it turned when he was furious. "I thought I would let you know out of courtesy and as we have been best friends for so long, I thought it'd be rude of me to let you find out from the paper. I'm not seeking your approval."

"Well that's a relief, because you aren't going to get it," he said. "It's _Malfoy_, Hermione. I knew you were getting cosy with the snakes but I thought it ended with Nott, not Malfoy. Next you'll tell me you've been cuddling up to Parkinson."

"Pansy is still as rude as ever, don't worry. Can you put Harry back on, please?"

_Pop_. "Are you happy, Hermione?" Harry asked, eyes flickering off to the side where Hermione was sure Ron was running amok.

"Yes," she said. "It was my decision. You two know me better than anyone and you both know I wouldn't do anything like this unless I was one hundred percent certain of my choice. And believe me, Ron, I was just as startled as you are when I realised it's what I wanted. And yes, he makes me happy."

Harry nodded, looking decades older than eighteen for a moment. "I know he's changed. I wouldn't have testified on his behalf unless I wholeheartedly believed it. Just don't rush into anything," he said, then opened his mouth to continue when she made a move to respond. "I'd say that if it was anyone else, too, not just because it's Malfoy. But you have my approval. It's not likely we'll become best friends anytime soon, but I respect your decision."

Hermione blinked at her best friend. She had expected him to be the more rational of the two but this was taking it to a whole new level. "Thank you," she said. "I know this is a lot to ask of you after what Draco and his family put you through."

"It hasn't exactly been a walk in the park for you, either," Harry smiled. "But you're willing to look past it. D'you want Ron back here?"

She nodded and her redheaded best friend reappeared, looking sour. "It's _Malfoy_, Hermione. _Malfoy_."

"Repeating his name isn't going to change my mind, you know," she said. "I know exactly who it is."

"Even after everything he's put you through? Put us through? What about what happened to you last year at his house?"

She flinched at the mention of the torture. "I haven't forgotten, Ron." She was trying to make new memories, trying to think of her New Years Eve at the Manor rather than her visit the past May. "But I'm not going to spend the rest of my life blaming him for everything. I've forgiven him."

Ron's eyes closed and for a few moments he said nothing. "I wish you would've asked us first."

Hermione exhaled noisily, trying to keep her temper down. "I don't need your permission, Ronald. You're acting the same way you did back in fourth year. I am perfectly capable of choosing who I do and don't date and there is no need for me to have to run a prospective suitor by you each time. I knew you wouldn't be happy with my decision, but I'm not asking you to be."

"I doubt that's ever going to happen," he said, "and I'm sure as hell not going to become buddies with the ferret, but I guess, if it's what you really want, you can see him."

"Thank you so much for the permission," she deadpanned. "It's precisely what I was looking for from this conversation."

"Just let Malfoy know that if he hurts you in the slightest way, we're coming for him."

Hermione swelled with appreciation for her friends at that moment. She was certain that, no matter what her decisions were when it came to romance and relationships, Harry and Ron would always be there to protect her. Thankful that she was blessed with such fiercely loyal friends, she smiled. "Don't worry, Ron, I'll pass on the message. Look, I've got to go, so can you pass on my love to Harry?"

"Sure thing, Hermione," Ron said. "When's your next Hogsmeade trip? We might come by for a visit."

"There'll be one before Easter. I'll write to you as soon as I find out the exact date. Talk to you soon."

Ron bade farewell and vanished from the fire with a succinct pop, leaving Hermione alone in her room.

* * *

><p>Hermione woke with a start, sitting upright in bed. Crookshanks mewled at her from the foot of the bed, cranky that she had disrupted his slumber. A look at the clock told her it had just gone midnight and she ran a hand over her face in frustration at another disrupted night's sleep.<p>

It hadn't been her usual nightmare, this time an amalgam of various situations she had been in during her year on the run. Draco's face had featured prominently, whether he had actually been there on the occasion or not. She looked to the other side of the bed where Draco had slept the night before and all at once, the bed felt far too big for just one person and a grumpy feline.

Her feet ached with the cold when the landed on the floor and she searched for a sweater in the dark, pulling it on over the top of her pyjamas. Stopping in the bathroom, she splashed cold water on her face and pulled the hair that tickled her neck into a bun atop her head, securing it with pins. She tucked her wand into the waistband of her jeans and slipped on a pair of shoes to warm her toes. Having slept for three hours, she had overcome any serious tiredness she may have been feeling and was growing restless in her room.

Though as Head Girl she knew better than to be sneaking around the castle long after curfew, Hermione was agitated. Grasping her wand, she cast a quick Disillusionment Charm on herself, shuddering at the trickling feeling on the back of her neck. Tip-toeing down the stairs, she slunk through the painting that lead to her dormitory and through the halls of Hogwarts, towards the dungeons.

She found solitude in the Potions classroom, the peaceful bubbling of concoctions, the warmth from the fires that kept them boiling. The room was always particularly nice at night, devoid of other students and the booming presence of Professor Slughorn, and she was always happy to look over her major project and ensure it was progressing at a satisfactory rate.

When she pushed the door open to the classroom, cringing as the hinges squeaked in protest, she caught sight of unmistakable blonde hair in the corner.

"Couldn't sleep?" she asked, lifting the Disillusionment Charm as she entered, his head turning at the sound of the creaking door.

Draco nodded. "Same to you," he said. "Miss me in your bed, Granger?"

"Must be it," Hermione said, standing next to him and looking down at their assignment. "How's it going?"

"Well. Not much more we can do at this point except hope it turns out well."

"I hate sitting idly by," she sighed.

Draco's arm snaked around her waist, pulling her tight to his side. His fingers skittered across her sweater. "I'm sure there's something we could do to pass the time," he said and she caught sight of a wink in her direction.

Hermione felt her face flush red, tried to keep her cool. "Charming, Draco," she said, nudging him with her elbow.

Draco laughed, an honest chuckle that made her head turn and her own smile break free. "So proper, Granger," he grinned. "You weren't so restrained last night."

Again, a gloss of colour across her cheeks. She had been so exhausted and Draco had been so inviting. It was rare that she got that carried away and she had hoped that their state of exhaustion had led to him forgetting that particular event.

"A speechless Hermione Granger. That's a new one."

"A smarmy Draco Malfoy is nothing out of the ordinary," she shot back, trying to ignore the patterns his fingers were making on her side. "If you're going to be like this then I might as well go back to my room. _Alone_."

"That almost sounded like you were going to extend an invitation to me," Draco said. "Trying to get me back in your bed, eh?"

"Speaking practically, we both need to be well-rested, and if last night was any indicator, we both sleep better when we're together." She had adopted her clinical approach, the tone she took when answering questions in class and dealing with insubordinate students. "Whether or not there are romantic links is irrelevant."

Draco sighed. "You sure do know how to make a situation sound romantic."

"If you don't want to spend the night with me then you just have to say so," Hermione said. She hoped that he would agree to stay, though, remembering how nice it had been to wake up beside him in the morning.

Draco studied her for a few more moments. She felt uncomfortable under his gaze, how his eyes raked over her face and down her neck, lingering on the marks she was certain were visible above her sweater. "Okay," he finally said. "Let's go."


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: Hello! Thank you so much to everyone who has favourited/reviewed/followed this story. It means a lot to me and definitely inspires me to keep on writing and getting new chapters out in a timely manner!**

_**Hermione's Dormitory**_

_**Thursday, February 20**__**th**__**, 1999**_

_**6:45AM**_

Hermione let out a groan of complaint at the buzz of her alarm, nestling further into her pillow. Eyes still closed, she frowned at the firmness of it and reluctantly opened one eye. What she had thought to be her pillow squirmed away and she realised that at some point during the night, she had burrowed against Draco's chest.

"Morning, Granger," Draco said, a sleep tinged voice. "You're lying on my arm."

She smiled as he curled that arm around her, pulling her body in close to his beneath the covers. "Good morning." Looking up at him through her eyelashes, she took note of how messy his hair was in the mornings, how bleary his eyes were.

"I don't think I'll ever get used to waking up with you," Draco said, shaking his head and rubbing his eyes with his free hand.

"I'm going to take that as a compliment," she decided and rolled away from him, stretching as she stood. "I've got to shower."

"If these slumber parties are going to become a regular thing then I should bring a change of clothes or two with me," he said. He reached out and began to scratch Crookshank's ears, the feline ambling across the mattress to him after Hermione stood. The cat began to purr and settled beside him. "Your cat is hideous."

"Be nice," Hermione chastised. "And I'm sure a change of clothes wouldn't go amiss so you don't have to sneak back into your dormitory every morning."

"_Every_ morning?" Draco quirked a brow. "Got a taste for me, Granger?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Fine, you don't have to come up if you don't want to. I'm sure I can find someone to replace you."

Draco ceased in pleasing Crookshanks who gave him a disgruntled stare. He tossed his sheets away and approached Hermione, standing close enough that she had to force her head up to look at him. Though his jaw was set, his eyes twinkled. "Think I'm that replaceable, Granger?" he asked. "_Hermione_?"

Involuntarily, she shuddered. "Only joking," she whispered, stood on her toes to press her lips to his quickly, and darted into the bathroom, locking the door and pressing her back against it. After a few moments, she heard him snigger, the floor creak as he moved away. Colour still in her cheeks, she turned the shower on cold, stripped off, and leapt in. Turning the water back up to scalding, she washed quickly, shampooing and conditioning her hair.

Hopping out of the cubicle, she shook her hair out, splashing water across the tiles, the bathmat, her pyjamas. It was only after it she realised there was no robe in the room, her clothes now soggy. Towels were her only way to cover up and she cringed when she heard Draco cough in the next room. With her wand in the other room and no way of transfiguring anything into clothes or drying her pyjamas, Hermione found the largest towel she could find and wrapped it around herself.

Summoning her Gryffindor bravery, she unlocked the bathroom door and stepped back into her room. Like the day before, Draco was lounging on the bed, this time with a purring Crookshanks at his side.

"Well," he said when she entered, looking at her from head to toe. She tried to wiggle it down past her mid-thigh but to no avail. Any more shifts would cause her top half to be exposed. "This is...something."

"I forgot my clothes."

"I gathered." Again, he moved from the bed to stand in front of her. This time, she quaked. He ran a finger from her temple down her jaw line, along her neck, across her collarbone. Hermione tensed when he reached one of her scars, but he made his touch lighter than a feather. "I should go," he said, "before I do something either of us may regret."

"Probably," Hermione nodded, but she knew she would be sad to see him go. "See you in class."

Before he made a quick getaway, Draco leant down and placed his lips against her cheek, so gently that she could barely feel it. "Later, Granger."

_**Hogwarts Library**_

_**Sunday, March 2**__**nd**__**, 1999**_

_**2:00PM**_

Hermione chewed on her lip, staring at the chart she had designed in front of her. She wasn't sure where the time had gone, but somehow March had begun and she was only just starting work on her study timetables for her N.E.W.T. exams which were now only a couple of months off. Factoring in all the extra work she had as Head Girl, late night patrols, supervising extracurricular activities and trips to Hogsmeade, hearing and trying to deal with the problems of students, and general rule enforcing, plus her usual load of homework and projects, _and_ her new relationship with Draco, she was preparing herself for an exhausting few months.

She had almost had enough of the looks and whispers she had heard about her relationship since its public reveal in The Daily Prophet. The paper, no longer a credible news source and instead almost as much of a tabloid as Witch Weekly with fluff pieces by Rita Skeeter more frequent than proper reporting, had insisted that Hermione had lost her sanity in the war. Their other possible explanation for her new romance was that Draco had cursed or drugged her into his arms, and although their peers had readily accepted their relationship at the initial reveal, the article (and then ensuing follow-ups attempting to chronicle the bond) had sparked plenty of rumours in the school. She could no longer go anywhere without overhearing snide remarks about her boyfriend and though she had endured worse comments and her skin was thick, Hermione was beginning to tire of it.

Seeking refuge in the back corner of the library where no other students ever ventured, unless they were on a hunt for her, she had worked solidly since eight o'clock that morning after worming her way out of Draco's grasp and studying through both breakfast and lunch. It had been a welcome break from the constant companionship she had had since returning to Hogwarts. Though loving Ginny and enjoying the time with new friends in Slytherin, she preferred the solace of being alone or with just Draco, whom she could sit in silence with and work. He was currently forcing his Quidditch team through an intense training session, the weather having cleared up a bit, and so she had been granted a day by herself.

She sighed at the timetable which granted her little to no free time and slid it into her satchel for safekeeping, beside the ones she had drawn up for Draco and Ginny in case they required any assistance with organisation. As she reached for an Ancient Runes textbook and a fresh piece of parchment, ready to begin an essay on magical translations from Ancient Greece, she heard footsteps and the quiet clearing of a throat and looked up.

"Hermione, hello," Daphne smiled. "I didn't mean to disturb you."

Somewhat grateful for the interruption, Hermione shook her head. "It's fine. Do you want to sit?"

The Slytherin accepted the offer, settling into a seat beside her so they wouldn't attract the attention of Madame Pince. "Have you been in here all day? I didn't see you at either meal. Draco was a bit concerned you weren't eating."

"I'm okay, I promise," Hermione said. "Just a bit stressed. It's been a difficult year back, the past few weeks especially. Time just got away from me and I must have worked through lunch. Is Draco still training?"

Daphne nodded. "He booked the pitch for the whole day, so they started at nine, broke up for lunch, but I think he'd keep them out there until midnight if he thought it would boost their chances at the cup." The blonde paused, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She was wearing the glasses she usually donned for classes and Hermione noticed ink stains on her hands, a sure sign the Slytherin had been studying. "And look, I know that it can be hard to be in the public eye, particularly with something as private as your personal life, but you just have to persevere. At the end of the day, the press can say all they want, but it's what you feel that matters."

Hermione stared at her friend for a few moments. "You should definitely have been sorted into Ravenclaw," she decided, her friend smiling. "But I'm thinking you didn't chase me up here to discuss the tabloids with me, did you?"

"That's where the Slytherin comes in. Butter you up and then ask for a favour." The blonde smiled wider now, a dazzling sight. "I was wondering you wouldn't mind being a bridesmaid at my wedding this summer."

"Are you serious?" Hermione asked, dropping her quill. Daphne nodded. "Of course! I didn't realise you would be getting married so soon. And there was no need to butter me up for that one. All you had to do was ask."

"I just wasn't sure we were at the stage in our friendship when I could ask so much of you," Daphne explained. "Of course, my family are covering all of the costs for dresses, so you needn't worry about that. Blaise is going to ask Draco to be his best man, so he will be there. Tori is my maid of honour, though that's more a family tradition than my choice, and you and Pans will be my bridesmaids."

Hermione smiled at her friend. She could see the excitement in Daphne's eyes, how her gaze kept flickering to the diamond on her finger, the way her voice softened when she said Blaise's name. It occurred to her that what her friend was experiencing was true love, such a rush of emotion and happiness and sheer joy at the thought of spending forever by one person's side. It was most certainly not something Hermione had felt with Ron during their brief engagement, and though she had never been one preoccupied with relationships, part of her yearned for a similar experience.

"And we're having an engagement party over the Easter break, too," Daphne continued, drawing Hermione back to their conversation. "I'd love it if you could come. It's going to be held at my house and I would really appreciate your ideas with the planning."

Hermione frowned. "I'm not very good at planning those sorts of things. I never even had a clue what wedding dress I wanted when I was with Ron, let alone the little details of the actual event. But I'll absolutely come."

"You mightn't think you know much, but I'm certain some part of you would like to help out. But if not, then I would like it if you would stay at my house for the duration of the holiday. My mother is going to be out of her mind planning the engagement party and the wedding but with you there, she'll have to act at least somewhat normal." Daphne let the smallest frown grace her lips for a second before it vanished. "And Blaise will be there a lot, too, which means Draco and Theo should be around for a bit of fun."

"I'd love to," Hermione said sincerely. "I'm just so honoured you asked me to be a part of the wedding party at all."

"I'm just so pleased that you said yes," Daphne said, adjusting her glasses once more. "Anyway, I should get back to studying. I still have to draw up a study plan for the exams and work on that Ancient Runes translation."

"Give me a moment and I'll walk out with you." Hermione checked her watch and noticed it was nearing three o'clock and she could feel aches of hunger in her stomach. "I think I've been cooped up in here long enough." She packed away her parchment and books, lugging the satchel over her shoulder and gesturing for Daphne to lead the way. They continued to chat about the impending engagement party and Daphne's wedding until reaching Hermione's dormitory where they parted ways, Daphne headed back towards the Slytherin common room.

Hermione trudged up the stairs to her room, bag heavy on her shoulder, but excited for the upcoming holiday.

.

It was close to seven o'clock when she heard footfalls on the stairs to her room. Having just finished the last of her homework, she was in the mood to be social. Draco came in, smelling of soap, hair still wet and cheeks a bit pink from a hot shower.

"Hey," she said, standing up and picking her way out of the pieces of parchment and textbooks she had strewn across her floor. Draco kissed her forehead and frowned.

"You are absolutely filthy," he said, running a thumb down her cheek. He pulled his hand away and showed her the black smudge that had collected on his finger, traces of ink from her frantic day of studying. "Go clean up and then we can go down for dinner. I'll wait out here."

"You're incredibly bossy," she said, rubbing at the ink spot on her cheek. But she obeyed, heading to her bathroom and filling the basin with water. She noticed a few more splotches of ink, a couple of tiny droplets on the opposite cheek, too. Likewise, her hands were a mess and her hair had taken on a life of its own. She scrubbed away the ink and pulled a brush through her hair, plaiting it quickly down her back. When she deemed herself respectable enough, Hermione returned to the main room.

Draco was lounging across one of her couches, book in hand. He had made an effort to tidy her mess, her work stacked neatly on the counter of the kitchenette and the textbooks returned to their shelves. "Much better," he said, rising. "Your hair looks good like that, Granger." He lifted the plait and played with it for a few seconds. "Come on. You can tell me all about your day on the way down to dinner."

Letting her hand slip into his grasp, they left her dormitory. "Daphne asked me to be one of her bridesmaids today," she said.

"Yeah, she mentioned she was going to do that. Blaise asked if I'd be his best man just after Quidditch practice." They reached the Entrance Hall, students milling into the Great Hall for dinner. "Are you going to the engagement party over Easter?" When she nodded, he continued. "Looks like I'll be seeing a lot of you over the holiday, then. And would you do me the honour of accompanying me to the party?"

Hermione rolled his eyes at his swotty tone. "I suppose I could do that," she said, unlocking their fingers as they prepared to head to their separate tables. "See you after dinner."

Ginny had saved her a place at the Gryffindor table, slightly separated from the rest of their house. Gryffindor had been the least accepting of her decision to be with Draco though they still held too much respect for her to say anything to her face. Instead, she was largely being ignored by her housemates, Ginny and Neville the two exceptions.

Neville shuffled down the table to join them, sitting beside Ginny. "Hey, Hermione," he said, pouring drinks for everyone. Though Neville had been one of Draco's most bullied victims, he was keen to turn over a new leaf, trying to find the good in everyone. Hermione hadn't seen them converse, but Neville had told her that if she believed Draco had truly changed, then he would believe it too, respecting her decision to be with whomever she wanted. "Good day?"

"Productive," Hermione nodded. "I spent most of it in the library and the rest of the afternoon working on an Ancient Runes translation. You?"

He grinned. "Spent most of it in the greenhouses. Professor Sprout is trying to integrate some of Luna's plants in with the other plants. Luna and I were working on replanting a few Dirigible Plum trees. Funny plants, they are."

Hermione remembered the strange, floating fruits outside the Lovegood house when she, Ron and Harry had visited the year before. "I'll have to come down and see all the work you guys have put in down there."

"Professor Sprout offered me a position as assistant professor, starting next year," Neville said, beaming.

"Neville!" Ginny said, hugging their friend. "That's amazing!"

"Congratulations, Neville," Hermione offered, smiling widely. Neville blushed. After all his mishaps and difficulties in his first years at Hogwarts, she was genuinely thrilled that he was finding his own way, had found his one true passion, and was head over heels for Luna. After a few more sentiments of congratulations which left Neville as red as the smoke in a Remembrall, Ginny opted to change the subject.

"So, Hermione, have you got any news about Daphne's wedding?"Ginny asked. Daphne, being the least Slytherin of the lot, was the only one from the emerald house which Ginny could be in close proximity to without arguing.

"She asked me to be a bridesmaid," Hermione said. "And I'm going to the engagement party over Easter. Keep up with the niceties and you might just get an invitation."

"I hope so." Ginny swallowed the last of her pumpkin juice. "It's going to be the wedding of the century, I swear."

Hermione smiled. "Don't worry, I'll keep you posted on all the details." She saw Draco rise from the Slytherin table on the other side of the hall, cocking his head towards the door when she caught his gaze. Having finished her dinner, she rose, farewelling her two Gryffindor friends with a wave and offering a final congratulations to Neville on his new job offer.

Draco was waiting in the Entrance Hall, leaning against the furthest wall with his arms folded across his chest. He pushed himself off the stone when she arrived and they fell into step together en route to her dormitory.

"Good dinner?" he asked.

"Not bad. Neville got offered a position teaching Herbology here next year," Hermione said.

"Congratulations to Longbottom." Though Draco's tone wasn't sarcastic, it was still dry, bored.

"You should be a bit nicer to my friends, Draco. Or at least Neville and Ginny. They're trying really hard to accept my decision to see you, alienating themselves in the process," Hermione explained. "And I've made a serious effort to get to know your friends, even Pansy, and that was a hell of an effort." Though she and Pansy still weren't friends and Hermione doubted they ever would be, the Slytherin girl had stopped passing off casual insults directed either to her or to Gryffindors in general.

Draco reached forward, tickling the tentacle of the Giant Squid and opened the painting up to let Hermione through first. "I'm never going to be buddies with your friends, Granger," he said.

"I'm not asking for friendship, Draco. I'm just asking for a little bit of civility." Hermione noticed an owl fluttering outside the window, bobbing up and down and hooting excitedly. She let the creature in, recognising it as Ron's owl, and untied the note from its leg. "Ron wants me to meet him for lunch in Hogsmeade next weekend."

She heard Draco scoff and chose to ignore him, penning a quick reply on the same piece of parchment and saying yes to the meeting. "Are you going?" he asked as Pig fluttered out the window and Hermione settled in an armchair.

"Of course I'm going. He's one of my best friends."

"And your former fiancé."

"Pansy is your ex-girlfriend and yet you spend as much time with her as you do with me," Hermione pointed out, feeling herself get riled up. "I don't see why my past romantic relationship with Ronald should be of such concern to you when it's so clearly _in the past_."

Draco rolled his eyes. "And it really wouldn't concern you if I said I was going off to have lunch with _just_ Pansy?"

"Do you realise that this is one of the reasons Ron and I ended our engagement? You have no right to tell me who I can and can't be friends with, Draco. It's absolutely none of your business."

"Pardon me for not wanting you to go on a cosy little date with your ex-fiancé, Granger," Draco snapped, for the first time losing his cool tone. "I get that Weasley is your best fucking friend but I don't like him and I'm not going to like you running off to be with him. Would you have even told me if I wasn't here when you got the owl?"

"Of course I would, Draco, but lucky for me, your opinion is irrelevant in the situation," Hermione said, "and if you don't like it, you don't have to wait around and see how it goes." She regretted the words the moment they left her mouth but, too caught up in the argument and her Gryffindor pride, refused to retract them.

For a split second Draco recoiled. "Fine," he said, the sneer he had worn for their first six years of schooling on his face, voice level, detached. "I won't."

**A/N: Please review!**


	17. Chapter 17

_**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry**_

_**Sunday, March 9**__**th**__**, 1999**_

_**12:30PM**_

Hermione was miserable and she could think of no other way to describe her state. She hadn't spoken to Draco for a whole week, outside of clipped conversation necessary for class work. Each night since their fight, she had woken in a sweat and had no one to lull her back to sleep and had been surviving on barely four hours of sleep a night for the last week. As a result, her studies were suffering. Professor McGonagall had kept her behind after their Transfiguration lesson that Friday, voicing her concerns in a tone that made Hermione feel scolded and childlike. Even Daphne and Theo had seemed a bit distant in their encounters and Ginny had been of no help with the argument.

Now, bundled in a coat and scarf and walking down to Hogsmeade by herself, she could feel the toll the week had taken on her. She hadn't been eating, too preoccupied with work that took too long to complete in her exhausted state. She was certain that if she had managed at least one good night's rest, she would be feeling much better both physically and mentally. But there was this added heaviness in her chest, her unresolved fight with Draco still weighing on her. She was very good at compartmentalising, but no matter what she was doing and how focused she was at the task at hand, she couldn't suppress the sadness.

Her boots crunched loudly against the snow on the path, what she hoped was the last of the cold weather. There had been a couple of warmer days at the beginning of the week where the sun shone brightly and staying inside for lessons had been torture, but by Wednesday, winter had decided on a final hurrah and doused a great snowfall over the castle and surrounding regions. The white blanket on the ground made her think of Valentine's Day and her first date with Draco the day after and the thought made her chest ache.

Hermione shook her head violently. She would not become one of those girls and let herself get pulled down and constantly distracted by her relationship. No matter how badly things were at the moment, she was certain that she and Draco would pull through, that it was only a matter of time before they made up.

Rounding the corner into Hogsmeade, her spirits were immediately lifted by the cheery village. Students milled about, enjoying their day off lessons and the excursion from the castle. She caught sight of Ron waiting outside The Three Broomsticks, glancing around the little town in search of her. He noticed her approach and waved. She could see the grin on his face from the end of the street.

When she reached him, Ron hugged her tightly and she smiled against his coat. Hermione stepped back as he released her and they entered the pub together, searching out a table near the back where conversation could still be heard. Ron broke away to order their lunch, returning with two foaming butterbeers.

"Don't take this the wrong way, Hermione," Ron said as he took his seat, "but you look bloody awful."

She drank deeply from her glass. "Thanks, Ronald. It's nice to see you, too."

"Everything all right?" he asked.

"Fine," she said, voice an octave higher than usual. "I've just got an awful lot of work on at school. How is everything with you and Harry?"

"Harry and I are doing just fine, but you're lying to me. Your voice has gone all shrill like mum's and I can see how tired you are." He studied her for a moment. "Has that Slytherin git done something?"

Hermione sighed, looking at her best friend. "We had a fight, okay?" she said, sipping again from her drink. "It was last week and it was about you and I don't want to talk about it."

Ron frowned, concern in his blue eyes. "Why were you fighting with Malfoy about me?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Didn't I just say I don't want to talk about it?" But when Ron just looked at her, she sighed. "He didn't want me to see you. Typical, irrational boy behaviour."

"Hey!" Ron said as their food arrived. "I take offence to that."

"You should," Hermione said. "You were the same when we were together."

Ron, mouth stuffed with chicken pot pie, just shook his head. He swallowed with a large gulp. "Look, as much as I hate Malfoy, I want you to be happy, Hermione, whether it's with him or someone less ferrety." He had another too-big mouthful. "And Merlin, I can't believe I'm saying this, but I get where Malfoy is coming from. You might want to give him a bit of a break unless you want what happened between us to happen again." He chewed thoughtfully for a moment and added, "That said, I wouldn't mind if it did work out that way."

Hermione smiled at Ron. "You can be quite insightful sometimes, Ronald," she said, relaxing into her seat. She chose to veer conversation back to Ron's life, her best friend all too happy to talk about his training as an Auror and his new relationship with Fay Dunbar.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Hogwarts Quidditch Pitch<strong>_

_**1:30PM**_

A reluctant Slytherin team trudged out to the pitch, led by Draco. He had been in a foul mood all week, his housemates steering clear of him though no one was certain of what had caused him to act so harshly, and now the team was bearing the brunt of his anger. After a vicious morning training session after which two players had to go to the Hospital Wing, Draco insisted they return to the pitch for a more physical approach rather than tactical.

"Laps," he instructed after each player had deposited their broom on the sidelines. "Now."

The team groaned but most knew better than to argue, heading off on a slow jog around the Quidditch pitch. Blaise was the only one who stayed behind. "Drake," he said, refusing to quail beneath Draco's glare, "you've got to give it a rest. I get that you and Granger are in a fight but you can't keep taking it out on us the whole team will hate you."

"This has nothing to do with Granger," Draco snapped. "I want to win the cup and the only way we can is if the rest of you get off your asses and train."

Blaise stood firm. "We're going to take the cup, mate. We've won every match so far and we're in better condition than the Slytherin team has been in for years. You're just pissed off and taking your anger out on us instead of dealing with the problem."

"Fuck off, Zabini," Draco said, ignoring that Blaise was entirely correct. His best friend shook his head and ran off to join the rest of the team on their run, leaving Draco to survey their progression from the sidelines. He rubbed at his eyes, trying to squash the tiredness that had come from a week of sleepless nights. Too proud to admit he was wrong, he had stayed away from Hermione, speaking to her only in lessons, but keeping tabs on her from afar. Though he would never say it out loud, was missing the Gryffindor quite terribly.

Sensing movement behind him, Draco turned and saw Daphne approaching. He suppressed a sigh. "Your boyfriend is too busy to talk to you," he said, looking back to his team.

"I came to talk to you, actually."

"Of course you did," he muttered. "What?"

"Don't be like that, Draco," Daphne said. "It's been a week. You can't pretend like it's not bothering you."

"I'm fine, Daphne. Drop it."

"You're not fine at all. If you were, you'd be running laps with the rest of your team, not sulking on the sidelines like a petulant child. Just go talk to her, and give me my fiancé back from this ridiculous training regime."

Draco stared coolly at his companion for a moment. "Right!" he called to his teammates. They ran over, looking reluctant and fearing what torture their captain would put them through next. "You, er, can all go off now. Training is over early. Good work for today."

The Slytherins stared at Draco for a few moments as though he had grown an extra head before scarpering off, hoping to get away before he changed his mind. Daphne and Blaise vanished with them, leaving Draco to lag behind. He took the solitude as a time to reflect on his argument with Hermione, something he had avoided vehemently for the past week.

Daphne, ever perceptive and full of more intuition than Draco thought possible, had realised something was wrong the minute he arrived back in the common room after their row. She had intercepted him en route to his dormitory, standing with her hands on her hips and refusing to let him pass until she talked his temper down. Thinking on it, he was glad she had been so insistent, certain there would have been another broken hand if she hadn't been around.

He was aware that he had overreacted with Hermione, now certain that he was in the wrong, though being a Slytherin, there was too much pride at stake to admit he was wrong. Part of him was also sure that Hermione was at least somewhat wrong, too, and he had spent the week waiting for her to come to him with apologies spilling out.

Entering the draughty castle, he headed up the main staircase rather than down to the dungeons, briefly thankful to his exhaustion for rendering him unable to train and therefore without need for a shower. He realised he had taken the stairs two at a time when he reached Hermione's dormitory in record time, breathless. Tickling the tentacle of the Giant Squid, he turned the knob which appeared and continued on his way to his girlfriend's dormitory.

Hearing the soft tones of the record he bought her on their first date, his pace slowed as he took the last two stairs, pausing in the doorway to knock against the side of a bookshelf. Hermione was sitting on the couch, hair in disarray, legs tucked to one side and a tome open against the arm of the chair. She looked up at his interruption, face flummoxed for a moment.

"Draco," she said slowly, testing the words. "I was going to come and see you tonight. I thought you had Quidditch practice all day."

Taking a chance, Draco stepped into the room. She shut the book and stood. "I ended it early," he said. Any prepared conversation flew out of his mind when he saw her standing there, no clue of how to resolve their fight with words. Instead, he reached her in four strides, taking her face between his hands and kissing her with as much force as he could muster.

It took half a moment for Hermione to react, kissing back with equal pressure, tangling one hand in his hair and letting the other arm wrap around his body. They kissed until he was out of breath and his lips were red.

"I'm sorry, too," she said, cheeks pink and eyes bright. "I thought we'd talk it over but this way is much better."

"Faster, too, knowing you."

Hermione rolled her eyes, kissed his lips chastely, and squirmed from his grasp. "I should've known there'd be some conflict between you and Ronald when it came time for me to see him," she said. "And what we had was obviously a big deal, so I should have understood your jealousy."

"So we're talking about it now?" Draco asked, one brow lifted. He sighed, sat down on the couch whilst she moved into the kitchen and started making a pot of tea. "I realise that I don't have the right to choose who you can and can't see, but I'm never going to be thrilled that you're seeing Weasley."

"You know, he said that I should take you back," Hermione said. She poured the hot water into a large white teapot, set it on a tray with two teacups, a small bowl of sugar and a jug of milk. "Over lunch, I mentioned our argument and he told me I was overreacting and that I should give you a break." She levitated the tray over, letting it land on the coffee table with a soft clink of china.

Draco put two teaspoons of sugar into his cup and poured from the teapot, leaving Hermione's cup empty with the knowledge that she preferred her beverage to be stronger. "I suppose I should thank him, than," he said, voice flat and mouth turned down at the corners.

Hermione, who had been nestled into his side, sat up straight. "You'd do that?"

He gave a slow nod. "I'm not pleased that it was him, but he deserves thanks."

She twisted around to kiss him firmly. "Draco, that would mean so much to me," she said. "And I'm assuming I have Daphne to thank for your attitude change?"

"Well, it certainly wasn't Blaise," he said. "I'll write Weasley a letter tomorrow. Thanking a Weasley...what have you done to me, Granger?"

Hermione grinned. "Something that probably should have been done a while ago."

Unable to resist temptation, Draco kissed her again, then leant forward to pour her cup of tea. He added a generous splash of milk and a teaspoon of sugar, passing it to his witch who smiled appreciatively. "I don't know if I agree with that. I happen to like aspects of my old self."

"Which ones? The self-righteous, snarky, selfish, cruel, egotistical, bratty aspects?"

"The proud, devilishly handsome ones, actually, Granger."

"Please," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. "Up until this year, you were pasty and far too-skinny for your own good. You even resembled the ferret Mad-Eye turned you into in our fourth year."

Draco cringed. Though the event was long in the past, the nasty transfiguration wasn't something he'd soon forget. "And now?" he said. "You said 'up until this year'."

Hermione returned her teacup to the table, manoeuvring herself on the couch so she rested on her knees and faced his profile. "I'll admit," she said, running a finger along his cheek in a way that made goosebumps break out across his flesh, "you've grown to be quite aesthetically pleasing. Your face has filled out, and you have a strong jaw line." Her fingers skimmed along his jaw, then back up to his hair. "You have the softest hair I've ever felt," she continued, tugging on a few strands lightly, moving her fingers down to his lips. "And I think I've expressed how I feel about your lips in the past."

Draco thought his heart would break free of his chest with his girlfriend's movements, the low tone of her voice. He struggled to keep his composure, turning his head to her. "I'm quite a fan of expression, Granger, particularly in that form."

On that cue, Hermione tilted forward to kiss him gently, more questioning than anything. After resting his teacup on the floor, Draco moved his hands to her hair, lacing the curls around his fingers and responding to her touch.

He leaned back on the couch, pulling her with him until she was partially on top of him, lips still locked, one of his hands now tracing along her side, the other clasped on her hip to keep her steady.

Hermione's hands were exploratory, one on his cheek, the other drifting from his arm to his torso, pressing firmly in a way that set his skin alight. They kissed until they were out of breath, Hermione reaching dangerous territory as she pulled his shirt up slightly, her hand splayed on his skin.

"Granger," he said, pulling away. "We're getting carried away."

Seeming to realise just how intimate their position was, Hermione flushed scarlet and pulled her hand away, letting it rest on his clothed chest, just above his heart, her head against his shoulder. "I never thought I'd say this to you, Draco, but I missed you."

Draco had a rare, genuine smile across his face, kissing her hair. "I missed you too, Granger."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Sappy and pretty OOC and late and I'm sorry if there have been mistakes. The past month has been absolutely awful for me and I'm amazed I can even get this chapter up this quickly. Please review, hopefully the next chapter won't take as long to arrive.**


	18. Chapter 18

_**Just outside of London**_

_**Tuesday, March 30**__**th**__**, 1999**_

_**5:00PM**_

Hermione opened her eyes to the British countryside whizzing past the train in darkness. In the distance, she could see the first few lights of London coming into view. She rubbed her eyes, surprised she had managed to sleep for so long, and turned to see Draco reading on the other side of the seat.

"Hi," she said, stretching herself out on the bench, her feet in his lap.

"Welcome back," Draco said, folding down the corner of the page he was on and tossing the book to the opposite bench. "Sleep well?"

"It was nice."

"We should be there soon."

Hermione nodded, retracting her legs and tucking them beneath her. "Draco-,"

"Granger, you have nothing to worry about."

"That doesn't reassure me," she said.

"Look, Daphne's Slytherin status comes primarily from her being pure blood. She can be conniving at times but I'd class it as Ravenclaw wiles more than anything. Her parents are much the same. They have better things to worry about than your lineage."

"It's not just that," she said, feeling her cheeks tinge. She kept her gaze away from Draco's face, certain his reaction would be amusement.

"What else?"

Again, she flushed. "It's having to spend a week with Pansy."

Hermione could almost hear Draco's eye roll. "Merlin, Granger, you battled the Darkest wizard there's ever been, almost went after a great big bloody snake, freed the most wanted prisoner from Azkaban, broke into the Ministry, faced down Umbridge, fought Death Eaters, and ran around Britain doing anything you could to piss off Voldemort," he said, "and you're scared of _Pansy_."

"I was just doing what was necessary," Hermione said, indignant. "And I'm not scared of Pansy. Just apprehensive about spending so long with her."

"Come here," Draco beckoned, repositioning himself on the bench so she could rest in his arms. "Just don't buy anything she has her eye on and you'll be fine. Daph's parents will love you. The week will go off without a hitch."

"But what if-,"

"Salazar, I'm surprised you haven't gone grey already. Do you ever stop worrying?"

"Sometimes. Normally when I'm asleep."

Draco snorted and kissed her temple. "You know, you don't have to stay at Daphne's if you don't want to. My parents are in Italy for until the summer whilst the manor gets redone. It'd just be you and me."

Pulling from his grasp, she turned to look at him. "I wish I could, Draco, you know that. But I already promised Daphne and we'll be spending plenty of time together as it is."

"And if you can't sleep?"

Hermione smiled. "Leave the Floo Line open for me."

The train began to slow, closing in on Kings Cross, the pair preparing their luggage for the exit. Hermione ducked out of the compartment first, waving to Daphne in the one next door as she headed down towards the front of the train to instruct students. After wrangling two first year boys off, she hopped onto Platform 9 ¾, somewhat relieved to be back in London.

Though Ginny was remaining at Hogwarts for the Easter Break, Harry and Ron had assured her they would be at Kings Cross to greet her and they didn't disappoint. With her cheeks aching so much from a grin she thought would split her face in two, she launched herself into Harry's arms first, laughing.

"It's good to see you, too, Hermione," her best friend said, squeezing tight, neither wanting to let go. "Merlin, I forgot what it's like not seeing you every day."

Breaking apart their hug, Hermione turned to Ron and held him just as tightly. "I missed you two far too much," she said, shaking her head when Ron had released her. She turned, finding Draco with Blaise, Daphne, and Pansy. Theo and Astoria were off to the side, seeming reluctant to detach their lips from one another.

"Not sure Malfoy missed us at all," Ron said, earning a glare from Hermione and a nudge in the ribs from Harry.

Hermione turned to her boyfriend again, seeing him approach with his hands deep in his pockets. "Potter," he said upon arrival, nodding at Harry. "Weasley, I need a word with you."

A group of people were beginning to listen in, no doubt anticipating some sort of fight, and Hermione swelled with pride when Ron placidly and courteously agreed to Draco's request. The two stepped away from the rest of the crowd, leaving Hermione with an anxious looking Harry.

"Ron can't afford to get in a public fight with anyone, much less Malfoy," he said. "What do you think they're talking about?"

Hermione placed a reassuring hand on Harry's arm. "I think Draco is thanking him," she said, and as she spoke, she watched her boyfriend hold his hand out to Ron, the latter hesitating for only a moment before shaking it. The exchange was over quickly, both looking somewhat anxious to be out of the other's company.

"Granger, you ready?" Draco asked upon his return. "Pans is getting restless. Best not let her get too bored."

"Sure," Hermione said. "I'll be over in a second."

"I still don't know how you can stand to be around all those snakes," Ron said, shaking his head. "Want to meet for lunch sometime this week?"

"Thursday?" Hermione suggested. "We can just go to the Leaky Cauldron if that's alright. I think I'll be needing some pub food after a few days at Daphne's."

Harry grinned. "It'll be hors d'oeuvres as far as the eye can see. We'll see you at noon on Thursday."

With another brief embrace, Hermione's best friends vanished in identical pops. She turned and joined her boyfriend and their friends, grasping Draco's hand and disappearing into a sickening tube of darkness. They reappeared, trunks in tow, inside a grand entrance room.

"Wow," Hermione said, forgetting who she was with for a moment as she took the room in.

The room was bright, with high ceilings and two sweeping staircases that lead to a balcony. Walls painted white and dark polished floorboards, it was immaculate, from the carefully chosen pieces of artwork from artists both muggle and magical, to the intricate little details around the room of vases filled with fresh flowers and statement furniture pieces.

"Daphne, darling!" came a voice from the balcony, and Hermione turned her head up to see a glamorous woman, one hand resting on the white railing.

"Eva," said Draco's voice in Hermione's ear. She stiffened as Daphne's mother descended the stairs gracefully. Sensing her discomfort, Draco held her hand tightly.

Seeing Eva Greengrass, it was clear to Hermione where Daphne and Astoria got their looks. With the same blonde hair as Daphne, the Greengrass matriarch stood tall and slender, not a hair out of place and clothed in a neat pantsuit. She embraced her daughters first, then kissed both Blaise and Pansy on the cheek.

"Draco," Eva said, turning to him. "It's been too long."

"Hello, Eva," he said, Hermione taken aback at his casual address of her. As with the others, Eva kissed Draco's cheek. "How are you?"

"In a tizzy about this engagement party, but I'll suppose I'll manage," Eva smiled. "And you must be Hermione."

Gathering her Gryffindor bravery and putting a wide smile on her face, Hermione held out her free hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs Greengrass," she said.

"No need for such formalities here, my darling," the older woman said, grasping her hand warmly. "Mrs Greengrass is my mother-in-law. Just call me Eva. I want you to feel as comfortable as possible whilst you're staying with us."

Relaxing her shoulders, Hermione's smile became more genuine. "Thank you for letting me stay, Eva."

"Not at all, dear," Eva said. "My pleasure. Now, you should all go get cleaned up and we can eat. I trust you boys are staying for dinner?"

"I could never pass up free food, Mrs Greengrass," Blaise said, charming grin and all. "Drake?"

"Of course," Draco said.

"Wonderful. Girls, go and change into something more comfortable. Boys, you can wait in the parlour," Eva said, leading Draco and Blaise out of the room. Draco gave Hermione's hand one last reassuring squeeze before leaving.

"Come on," Daphne said, beaming. "I'll show you your room." Astoria and Pansy were already halfway up the stairs, gossiping about Theo. "Mum's only real rule is no boys allowed upstairs. Other than that, we're very relaxed about things, particularly for a pureblood family."

"Does Draco know your mother well?" Hermione blurted out, the question niggling at her since his casual conversation with Eva.

Daphne paused before she spoke, looking Hermione with careful eyes. "You know about Lucius' temper by now, I'm sure," she said, continuing when Hermione nodded. "When things got particularly bad, when we were kids, and again from fourth year onwards at Hogwarts, Draco would hide out here. He didn't really have any friends, just minions, and I think their houses reminded him too much of his own. He spent a great deal of time here. My parents treat him like a son and even though he loves Narcissa dearly, I'm certain Draco sees my parents as his own."

"Draco's lucky to have you," Hermione said sincerely.

"And now he has you, too," Daphne smiled at her, coming to a halt outside a large oak door. She pushed it open, revealing a vast bedroom. "Here's your room. I…Draco told me that you have nightmares, so I've left a bowl of Floo Powder by the fireplace in case you need to go see him during the night. You have a loo through there and if you need anything else, my room is right next-door. I'll be back in a couple of minutes to show you to the dining room."

"Thank you, Daphne. For telling me about Draco and for letting me stay."

"You are so very, very welcome, Hermione. I feel privileged to call you my friend."

As the door closed, Hermione began to explore her room for the next ten days, smiling when she saw the delicate china bowl full of Floo Powder by the elegant fireplace. She scrubbed her face in the bathroom sink, considered doing something to her hair and promptly gave up, changed into a dark pair of jeans and a blouse just as Daphne knocked on the door. Having been entirely unsure of what Eva had meant when she told them to change into something more 'comfortable', Hermione was pleased to see she had chosen correctly, Daphne's outfit mirroring her own except in different hues.

It turned out the dining room was just as bright and lovely as the rest of the home, with a small table set for seven in the centre, though Hermione was certain it would be expanded for larger gatherings. In the middle of the table were pitchers of water and two bottles of wine, the labels of which were in French and screamed taste to Hermione. She took a seat next to Draco and, remembering her conversation with Daphne on the way to their rooms, leaned in for a quick kiss.

"What was that for?" he asked when she pulled back, his hand reaching for hers.

Hermione just smiled, not wanting to get Daphne in trouble for her reveal. Eva reappeared in time to save her from having to answer, taking her seat at the head of the table. "Henry is still on business in Paris, but he should have finished up by tomorrow," Eva said. She flicked her wand, the food appearing on their plates. "Garlic prawns," she said. "My specialty. I picked up the recipe when I was in Paris almost twenty years ago. Have you ever been to France, Hermione?"

"Yes, once," Hermione said. "Just before third year. I spent a few weeks in Paris and then we spent the rest of the time in the south. It was wonderful. I'd love to go again."

"Maybe Drake could take you," Blaise said with a smirk.

"City of Love, they call it," Pansy chimed in.

Eva, ignoring the Slytherins, continued her questioning. "That was with your parents?" When Hermione nodded, she kept on. "And what is it they do?"

Forcing herself to chew, swallow, not let herself be overcome with emotion, Hermione cleared her throat. Beneath the table, Draco squeezed her knee. "They're dentists." At the bewildered look on Eva's face, she continued. "Like Healers for your teeth. They're in Australia now."

"Blaise, pass the water," Draco said loudly, earning a cluck of the tongue from Eva.

"Really, Draco, you shouldn't interrupt."

"Won't happen again, Eva."

Conversation turned to discussions of Daphne and Blaise's impending engagement party, due for one week away. Below the table, Draco sought out Hermione's hand, running his thumb across the back of it, keeping conversation away from her for the rest of the evening.

…

Hermione woke to bright light through her window and a small clock on the table beside her bed telling her it was eight o'clock. Shocked she had slept through the night, she gave her well-rested body a long stretch before tossing the sheets away and climbing out of bed. Following dinner the night before, she had farewelled Draco with plenty of thanks and retired to her room, starting work on the pile of homework assigned for the Easter break. She had fallen asleep close to midnight, sleeping a full eight hours.

Pulling the elastic from her ponytail, she shook her hair on the way to the shower, unknotting it with her fingers whilst the water heated up. She, Daphne, Pansy and Astoria were going to be making a visit to Diagon Alley, the others determined to find dresses for the party. Hermione had a vague idea of what she was going to wear, a dress she had packed neatly into her suitcase, though she was certain Pansy would not let her off the hook for wearing something twice.

Following a thorough scrubbing, which left her smelling of roses and strawberry, Hermione changed into black jeans and a pale grey sweater. As she finished plaiting her hair, Daphne was knocking at her door to take her down to breakfast. The Slytherin, as always, had outdone herself in a pale cream dress, a black ribbon around the collar and black tights on underneath. Whilst Hermione had returned to a pair of trusty almost-flat boots for footwear, Daphne was in heeled ankle booties, seeming completely at ease with the teetering heels as they walked to the kitchen for breakfast.

"I'm sorry if dinner was uncomfortable for you last night," Daphne said. "I understand that it must be difficult talking to Slytherins about your family when so many of us are pureblood elitists. My family have never been bothered with blood status, but my parents still ask a lot of questions."

Hermione shook her head. "It wasn't that," she said. "I would consider myself an orphan, now. My parents live in Australia with no knowledge that I exist. A precaution for the war."

"Hermione, I'm so sorry," Daphne said, putting a hand on Hermione's arm and bringing them to a halt. "I had no idea."

"I haven't told many people. Ron, Harry, Ginny, Draco. Now you." Feeling the familiar ache in her throat, Hermione swallowed heavily. "I'd prefer not to talk about it if that's alright."

"Of course," Daphne said, nodding. Her ponytail bobbed enthusiastically. "Shall we continue? Pansy is no doubt anxious to get to the shops soon."

The kitchen was warm, filled with sunlight, the smell of freshly baked pastries. A plate of still warm croissants rested on the countertop, Pansy already seated at the breakfast bar with one on her plate beside a bowl of fruit salad. Taking in Pansy's short dress, skintight and dark green, Hermione wondered if the girls knew how to dress casually at all.

"Morning, Granger," the Slytherin girl said.

"Pansy." Hermione nodded. "Sleep well?"

"Peachy."

"It's going to be a very long week if I'm the one doing all the talking," Daphne said. "Where's Tori?"

"I'm here, Daphne," Astoria said, clicking her way into the room in shoes Hermione was certain she would break her neck in.

"_What_ do you think you're wearing, Astoria?" Daphne said, staring at her sister, croissant halfway to her plate.

"What? What's wrong with it?" Astoria asked, looking down at her dress. Short, barely mid-thigh, it flared out at the waist and was covered in a geometric black, white, and pink print. "Teddy likes it."

"I don't care what Theodore likes," Daphne said. "First of all, we're going shopping, not to some party. And even if we were going to a party, it's far too short for you. You're only sixteen. And besides, that dress is mine anyway. Plus, you'll freeze outside."

"I'll cast a heating charm," Astoria insisted.

"We're going to muggle London, Tori, and you're only sixteen. You can't do magic outside of school for another four months."

"What about Pansy? Her dress is as short as mine."

Hermione hid a smile as Daphne rolled her eyes. "Pansy is older than you, and she could wear a potato sack for all I care. Go and get out of my dress and put something decent on. And _don't_ take anything more from my wardrobe."

Hermione joined Pansy at the breakfast bar, picking at her croissant as Daphne poured coffee for them all. "Does Astoria know that he hates being called Teddy?" she asked, looking up from her pastry.

Beside her, Pansy snorted. "Probably not. She's too pleased with herself to notice anything he says."

"It's pathetic," Daphne said. "Blaise and I were never like that."

Remembering the Christmas break, Hermione frowned. "I wouldn't have thought Astoria would be Theo's type."

"That's his type when the smart, brunette Gryffindors are unattainable," Pansy said. She reached for her coffee, drinking it black, sugarless, with a smack of her lips.

Hermione flushed. "Are you seeing anyone, Pansy?"

Pansy just passed her a look from the corner of her eye, the smallest smile on her lips. "A few people."

Before Hermione could inquire further, Astoria reappeared. "Is this better, _mother_?" she asked Daphne, this time in a longer, dark red dress layered over black tights.

"It'll pass," Daphne said. "Have some breakfast."

They finished eating in relative silence before grabbing their coats, Hermione feeling distinctly underdressed beside the other girls. For her, it was times like this she was pleased with her selection of predominantly male friends, even finding the slightly itchy sweater and low-heeled boots more uncomfortable than her usual attire.

"I'm not sure I really need anything new," Hermione said, buttoning up her coat.

"What, have you already bought something?" Pansy asked.

"No, but I'm just going to wear a dress I already have. I don't see the point in buying anything new."

Astoria scoffed, Pansy rolled her eyes. "So, at the biggest event on the social scene so far this year, you're going to recycle outfits?" the latter said.

"Pansy," Daphne chided.

"I don't understand why I should spend thousands of pounds on clothes that I'll only wear once. Where's the practicality or sense in that?" Hermione said, growing exasperated.

Before Pansy could argue back, Daphne interrupted: "What about, Pansy, you and Tori go shopping for everything you need. I only need shoes, so I'll take Hermione with me and if we happen to find a dress she likes, we'll get that."

Pansy pursed her lips. "Fine," she said, staring at Hermione. The Gryffindor saw a flicker of animosity in her eyes before Pansy turned on her heel, Astoria right behind her as they crossed the room to the fireplace. Taking turns, they tossed a handful of Floo Powder in, vanishing in green flames.

"Thanks, Daph," Hermione said.

"Just out of curiosity, what dress are you wearing?"

"The blue one I wore to a charity event last year and then wore to the party after the Halloween Ball."

"It's a lovely dress," Daphne said. "Come. We'll apparate to a safe point in muggle London. Muggles make the best shoes."

Hermione smiled as Daphne linked arms with her, sucking them into darkness.

…

Quite certain her feet were going to fall off, Hermione fell into an armchair at yet another boutique. Daphne had already bought three pairs of shoes, though by the looks of it, she was gunning for a fourth. They had met Pansy and Astoria for lunch at the Leaky Cauldron, both of them overloaded with parcels from both muggle and magical London and had apparated to Daphne's briefly to deposit their packages. The other girls had all bought new dresses as well, even Daphne though she had informed Hermione that her mother was designing the dress she was to wear at her engagement party.

Having picked up a new pair of shoes, Hermione was satisfied with the day's shopping, not too enthused about spending any more money than that. No matter how much Daphne had prodded and promoted all the lovely gowns they passed, Hermione had remained unconvinced. Now, close to four o'clock, Daphne assured they only had one shop left to visit before returning home.

"Come on, Hermione," Daphne said. "Chin up. We're almost done and you might even find a dress in the next shop."

"I'm fine, Daph," Hermione said, wincing as her feet ached when she pulled herself from the chair. "I don't need a dress."

"Of course not, but that dress is so dark! Are you sure you want to wear it to a daytime engagement party?"

Hermione smiled at her friend's attempts. "I'm happy to do so, but if I happen across something that I like even more, I suppose I may buy it."

The next shop was only three doors down, the shop assistant greeting them at the door with a shocking pink shade of lipstick.

"Hi, my friend here was looking for a dress to wear to an engagement party," Daphne said before Hermione could insist they were just browsing. Passing her Slytherin friend a dirty look as she was dragged to brightly coloured racks by the assistant, she let the woman look her up and down.

"I can see that you have great legs and a good bum, so you'll want something short, but you're not hefty up top at all so that works out great," the woman said. "We can get you something with a higher neck but shorter skirt. Now, in terms of colour, with your complexion, I think greens would work well. The right shade can bring out your eyes. Reds, too."

Hermione looked around to see Daphne filtering through the racks on the other side of the store. "What about this one?" Daphne suggested, holding out a dark red dress, short in the leg but with slight sleeves and sporting a high neckline. "Short, but the neckline is high. You could put your hair back and just wear a nice necklace and some pretty earrings."

"Daph," Hermione said, frown lines forming.

"Just try it on," Daphne said, passing her the dress.

"I think that would look just lovely on you," the shop assistant agreed. "I'll get you some heels to try it on with and find a few other dresses for you. This way, please."

Hermione left her bag with Daphne and shut the curtain of the changing room behind her with a sigh. The shop assistant opened it briefly to pass through some plain black pumps as Hermione slid her coat from her shoulders. Changing quickly, Hermione had to admit that the dress Daphne picked out for her was impeccable. Comfortable without being casual, with the help of the high heels, she was very pleased with the look.

"Fine," she said, pulling back the curtain at Daphne's instruction, "you win. I'll get this dress."

"Hermione, you look beautiful," Daphne said. Behind her, shop assistant nodded enthusiastically. "Do you have shoes to wear with it?"

"I'm sure I can find some," she said, not wanting to spend any more money than the already over-priced dress.

After changing back into her daywear and paying for the garment (the total cost making her blanch), she and Daphne returned to the safe point to apparate home, Hermione grateful for the chance to sit down.

They beat Pansy and Astoria home and decided to make a pot of tea and sit in the conservatory to work on respective projects, Daphne chewing down on her lip as she worked over party plans, Hermione nibbling the end of her quill as she took notes for a Transfiguration essay, her textbooks spread about the place.

It was close to six when Pansy and Astoria returned, both looking overloaded with their purchases. They took turns showing off their new items, though they kept their party outfits secret. Pansy seemed please when Hermione told her she had in fact bought something new, Astoria rolling her eyes.

"I'm going to go talk to Teddy," she said, leaving her packages in a heap and flouncing out of the room. Pansy sniggered, picking up her packages with a swish and flick of her wand.

At seven, Eva announced her arrival, calling out to Daphne who uncurled from her spot on the floor, primped quickly, and vanished into the entrance hall. A few minutes later, Daphne returned, announcing herself with a cough. Hermione looked up from her freshly completed Transfiguration essay.

"Any preferences for dinner?" Daphne asked from the doorway. "My mother has to stay in Paris overnight so it'll just be us."

"I'm not all that hungry," Hermione said, skimming over her essay. "You go ahead and get what you like. I'm going to do a bit more work."

Daphne shrugged elegantly, calling out to Pansy and Astoria as she left Hermione for the kitchen.

'A bit more work' turned into the completion of almost all of Hermione's holiday work as midnight approached. Daphne had poked her head in every now and then to check on her progress, heading to bed at eleven.

When the clocked tolled heavily at twelve, Hermione looked up from her books, confused. Realising the time, she gathered her things and wandered through the silent house, tiptoeing past the other bedrooms to reach her own room where she promptly fell into bed, barely pausing to change into her pajamas.

…

Hoarse, covered in a cold sweat, Hermione bolted upright. In the dark, she fumbled on her bedside table for her wand, casting a _lumos _charm and breathing in gulps of chilly air. Despite the perspiration, her face was hot and she could feel tears on her cheeks. From the dim light, Hermione saw the fireplace against the wall, remembered Daphne's generosity with Floo Powder, Draco's offer, the promise of an empty house.

"_Nox_," she said, picking up her wand and reaching the fireplace in record time. With a handful of dust in her hand, she stepped into the fireplace. "Malfoy Manor," she said clearly, dropping the powder and holding her breath as the spinning started.

She fell onto the floor of an unfamiliar room, but was greeted by a very familiar, albeit sleepy, tone.

"Who's there?" Draco said, the room pitch black. "_Lumos_." He was sitting up in his bed, hair a mess, pointing his wand at her. "Granger?"

"Hi," she said. She turned and flicked her wand at the fireplace, feeling herself calm as the flames sprung to life. Facing Draco again, who was looking far more awake as he approached her, she felt the tears return, throat thick. "I missed you."

Draco gave a genuine smile, pulling her against his chest for a long hug. "Want to talk about it?"

"No," Hermione said, listening to his heartbeat. The rhythmic thumping calmed her, and when they did pull apart, Draco wiped her tears away with his thumb. "Sorry I woke you up."

He grinned. "It's fine, Granger. I'm always happy to be woken up by you, though I can think of more fun ways than you appearing in my fireplace crying."

"Such a romantic," she said, leaning back in and kissing his chest, right above his heart. Again, Draco's arms tightened around her, keeping her close, and she felt his lips press into her hair. "Thank you."

"For what?" he asked. He let her go and sat on a couch in front of the fire, tugging gently on her hand until she joined him on the loveseat.

"For letting me come over. For not asking questions. Just for being here for me." She nestled into his side, one of Draco's arms draped over her shoulder.

"Anytime, Granger."

This time, when he leaned to kiss her hairline, Hermione tilted her face upwards to meet his lips, smiling into the kiss. As it deepened, she let Draco move her beneath him. Bodies flush, Hermione let sensations, emotions overcome her, weaving her fingers through his hair, arching against him when Draco's hand snuck beneath the hem of her shirt and his palm found her lower back.

Holding her tightly, he hoisted them upright until his back was against the couch, she straddling his lap. In another fluid movement, Draco lifted them both off the sofa and was carrying her to the bed, continuing the kiss, his fingers stroking tiny patterns on her thighs. Laying her down, head on the pillow, with more finesse than Hermione thought he would have, Draco pulled back slightly.

"Positive?" he asked.

At his gentleness and tact, she felt herself overcome with a wave of emotion for him. "Positive," she said. Moving her hands down his torso, Hermione grasped the bottom of his shirt and tugged at it. Getting her message, Draco pulled back and rested on his haunches, lifting the t-shirt over his head and leaving it abandoned on the floor. Hermione followed suit with her own shirt, blushing when Draco licked his lips.

To her surprise, when he lowered himself back down, he leant forward and kissed the scar along her neck, pressed his cheek to her heart, before kissing her lips again with as much passion as they both could muster.

…

The light was bright, Hermione squinted against it, face still half-buried in her pillow. She was looking at Draco who seemed far more alert than she, grinning across at her.

"Hi," she said, stretching her limbs out leisurely.

"Morning, Granger," he said, pushing the hair out of her face. "How are we this morning?"

Hermione assessed how pleasantly relaxed she felt, the gentle tenderness of her limbs when she sat up slightly, dragging the sheet with her for modesty's sake. "Adequate," she said, smiling at him when he rolled his eyes, leaned over to give her a thorough kiss.

"What time is it?" she asked when they were both disheveled and now far more awake.

"Half past ten," he said. "You have a better offer?"

Hermione sighed, reaching over the side of the bed for her shirt as Draco tried to pull her back down into the bed. "I promised Harry and Ron I'd have lunch with them in Diagon Alley today. We're meeting at noon and I could do with a shower and some clothes that aren't my pajamas." She pulled the shirt over her head, wriggled into her pajama shorts beneath the sheets.

"I happen to have to go to Diagon Alley today anyway," Draco said. "So if you go back to Daphne's and get ready and I'll come and meet you at half past eleven then we can apparate in together."

"You just can't get enough of me, can you, Malfoy?" Hermione said, kissing him chastely and tossing away the sheets, grabbing her wand on the way to the fireplace.

"I love it when you call me that," he smirked.

Laughing, Hermione shook her head as she grabbed a handful of Floo Powder, vanishing in a flash of green. She reappeared in her bedroom at Daphne's house, shucking her clothes on the way to the bathroom and letting the mirror fog up before stepping into the shower and cleaning herself quickly. She found Daphne and Pansy in the kitchen, nibbling on fruit salads.

"Morning," she said, trying not to appear too chirpy as she poured herself a cup of coffee, a vain attempt to disguise the bags under her eyes.

"You look thoroughly shagged," Pansy said in greeting.

"Pansy!" Daphne looked up from her breakfast.

"It's fine, Daph," Hermione assured her, sipping deeply from her mug. "Really. It's fine."

"Did you-," Daphne began, Hermione nodding before she could finish. Pansy smirked, Daphne's eyes widened. "How was it? Oh, sorry, is that too personal?"

Hermione flushed. "It was good. Really, really good." She helped herself to more coffee. "He's going to be here in about half an hour and then we're going to Diagon Alley. I'm meeting up with Harry and Ron so I'll probably be gone for most of the day."

"That was a good segue, Granger."

"Thanks, Pansy. What are you doing today?"

Pansy made a face. "Daphne's insisting we do all of our homework today. Thought you'd be well in on that," she said.

"I finished almost all of it last night," Hermione said. "I just have to work with Draco on something for Potions."

"I'm not sure they call what you've been doing 'work', Hermione," Daphne chimed in, smiling softly.

Again, Hermione felt her cheeks colour. She reached for an apple, chewing slowly to avoid any extra embarrassing conversation.

"Where's Tori?" Pansy asked, Hermione relieved conversation had turned away from her.

Daphne rolled her eyes before answering. "She got up at the crack of dawn to go and see Theodore. She said she couldn't bear to be apart for another day."

"Theo will love that," Pansy said with a grin. "I give them a month, at most."

"Pansy," Daphne frowned.

"What? I get that she's your sister and she likes him but his interests lie elsewhere, in a place which is thoroughly unattainable at this point, by the looks of it," Pansy said. "She's young. She'll recover."

"She's sixteen and infatuated with a boy who is only going to break her heart and I don't need you betting on it to prompt him to do so sooner," Daphne said. "For all your friendship with her, I'll be the one picking her up when Theodore leaves her for some moronic reason."

Hermione finished her coffee, feeling sufficiently awkward with the conversation. "I'm, uh, going to go and brush my teeth before Draco gets here. I'll come say goodbye before we leave."

Leaving the empty cup by the sink, she scuttled up to her room quickly, hearing Daphne and Pansy continue to bicker over the welfare of Astoria. She thought that Astoria was far too smitten considering the length of her relationship with Theo, and Pansy's comments of Theo's true interests made her flush, discomfort settling in her gut. After brushing her teeth thoroughly to ensure there was no trace of coffee left on her breath, Hermione stared at herself in the mirror.

Despite the bags under her eyes and the knots in her perpetually untamable hair, she was pleased with the girl who looked back. Though she had never been one to be preoccupied with her appearance, she had noticed that her looks had deteriorated in the past year, losing excessive amounts of weight whilst on the hunt for the horcruxes and getting very little sleep leaving her skin looking greyed, face gaunt. Now, she had regained the weight she had lost and her skin looked fresh, eyes bright. She smiled at her reflection and returned to her bedroom to grab a cardigan and her beaded bag as she heard Daphne calling her name from downstairs.

Trying not to appear too eager, she took the stairs slowly, though she couldn't help but smile again upon hearing Draco's voice from the kitchen

"Hi, Granger," he said when she arrived, grinning at her with his hand outstretched towards her.

"Hi," she replied, taking the offered hand and greeting him with a short kiss.

Pansy offered a long whistle. Hermione's cheeks grew hot as Draco looked at her with his brows raised.

"Shall we get going?" she suggested, ignoring Pansy's laughter.

"Suits me just fine," Draco said. "Floo or apparate?"

"Apparate," she said after a pause. "I'll see you two later."

"Have a good day," Daphne said. Pansy simply smirked, causing Draco to roll his eyes and another rush of colour to hit Hermione's cheeks.

"Come on, Granger," he said, tugging on her hand. "It's a nice day out."

"Are we really talking about the weather?" Hermione queried. She pushed the front door open and was indeed greeted by a glorious day, the sun bright and warm for early April.

"Only until we're out of earshot," Draco said, pulling her in close and kissing her with demanding authority. She wove her fingers through his hair and let him have full control of the kiss, one hand holding the back of her head, the other arm wrapped tight around her waist. When they separated, it seemed as though the sky had brightened even further. "Hi."

"Miss me much?" Hermione asked, taking his hand again and trying to quell her breathlessness.

"Not really," Draco shrugged. "Ready?"

"Ready."

Hermione grimaced, shutting her eyes tightly, opening them again in an alleyway around the corner from The Leaky Cauldron. Noticing it was five to twelve, they walked leisurely to the establishment, hand in hand, soaking up the good weather.

"By the way, what colour is the dress you're wearing to the party?" Draco asked as he held the door open for her. They both ignored the heads that turned to stare as they entered.

"Red."

Draco scoffed. "You're such a Gryffindor," he said. "But I suppose I'll keep you around. Dark or light?"

"Dark. And some of us just happen to suit red," Hermione retorted.

"I prefer you in nothing at all," Draco smirked, kissing her quickly before she could reply. Again, heads turned. "See you around, Granger."

He vanished into the alleyway that led to Diagon Alley before she had a chance to react. A rush of green flames from the fireplace distracted her, revealing Harry and Ron, both looking quite disheveled.

"You were meant to clean the fireplace out last week, Ron," Harry said.

"Well, _you_ shrunk one of my sweaters in your muggle drying thing! I was emotionally distraught."

"It was one of your mum's sweaters! I'm sure you'll get an identical one come Christmas."

"Well, that's just beside the point!"

"Hermione!" Harry said, finally noticing her. She just laughed at her best friends, their hair a mess, clothes covered in soot.

"Don't you boys dare hug me until you _scourgify_ your clothes."

Embarrassed, they both muttered the charm with their wands pointed at the most dirtied parts of their clothing, Harry finishing first and embracing her firmly.

"You look good, Hermione," Harry commented as Ron followed suit with the hug, lingering a moment longer than Harry had.

"Hermione," the redhead asked, "what's that mark on your neck?"

"What mark?" she asked, checking her reflection in the mirror above the mantelpiece. On her neck, in a place she could hardly see even if she craned her neck almost painfully in the mirror, was a purpling love bite. She flushed. "It's nothing. Nothing at all."

"Is that a hickey, Hermione?" Harry asked, pushing her hair out of the way to look at it again. When she didn't reply, his eyebrows lifted. "It is, isn't it?"

Rather than respond, Hermione took a seat at a vacated booth. Harry and Ron slid into the seat across from her.

"Did you shag him?" Ron asked.

"I don't see how that is any of your business, Ronald."

"She did," Harry said.

"Harry!" Hermione said.

"I can't believe it," Ron said.

"Have you slept with Fay yet, Ronald? Actually, wait, don't answer that because it doesn't impact on me and is therefore irrelevant to the progression of my life."

"I'm going to go and order," Harry said, ducking out of the booth.

"My life with Draco is none of your concern as long as I am happy and healthy, and as it turns out, I haven't been happier nor healthier in a very long time, Ron."

Much to her surprise, Ron held his hands up in surrender. "You're right. I have no room to judge."

"Really?"

"Really. Malfoy…well, he's a better man than he used to be."

"Are you feeling okay, Ron?"

"Hilarious, Hermione. He's making you happy. Very happy, apparently."

"Ron!" Hermione slapped his hand which rested on the table.

"Everything okay?" Harry asked, returning to the table warily.

"Great," Ron said. "I'm starved."

…

_**Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire**_

_**Saturday, April 3**__**rd**__**, 1999**_

_**8:00AM**_

"I should get going," Hermione said. Beneath her ear, Draco's heartbeat thrummed against his chest.

"It's barely eight o'clock."

"And Daphne will have been up for two hours getting ready by now. She's probably wondering where I am."

"I think they all know where you are."

Draco kissed the top of her head, shifting so she looked up at him, allowing him to kiss her more thoroughly. Moving Hermione so he was hovering over her, weight supported on one forearm, Draco kissed her to definite distraction for a few minutes until she was squirming beneath him.

"I don't have time," she managed to get out as he kissed her neck. "Daph is going to kill me as is."

"I'd like to see her try," Draco murmured against her skin. He shifted in a way that elicited a gasp from Hermione, leading him to grin into her neck. "Sure you want to go?"

"Trust me, Draco," she said. "It's not a matter of want."

…

By the time Hermione made it back to her room at Daphne's house, it was past nine o'clock. Following the fastest shower of her life, she found the bride-to-be in her own room, pacing in front of her wardrobe. On the wall hung a light blue dress, short but still tasteful, in a shade Hermione was certain would suit Daphne perfectly.

"Sorry I'm late, Daph," Hermione said, sitting on the stool at the end of her friend's bed. "I spent the night at Draco's."

"My dress is all wrong," the Slytherin complained, reaching up and touching the fabric. It seemed to shimmer with the contact. "And my hair isn't doing what it's supposed to do. I just don't feel right, today of all days."

With a great sigh, Daphne sat on the bed and promptly fell back, her hair fanning around her head like a crown. Hermione, having never seen her friend feeling this down on herself, wandered over to the garment. Brushing her fingers against it, the dress felt like a waterfall between her fingers.

"It's a beautiful dress, Daphne. The material is amazing. I can't see what's wrong with it. The colour is lovely and it's going to look lovely on," she said. "And as for your hair, I don't see how you can complain when I'm standing right next to you. You do know what my hair looks like, right?"

Daphne sat up, turned to face her. Her face was pale, mouth open in a wide 'O'. "You haven't even started on your hair!"

With no other reaction available to her, Hermione simply laughed in her friend's face, letting Daphne jump up from the bed and start bustling around the room, calling to the extensive staff on hand to offer their assistance.

…

Hermione pinned a final lock of hair back, approving of the image that stared back from the mirror. She felt smart and sophisticated, the dress flattering and pulled together with accessories borrowed from the other girls. She stifled a yawn, ignored the tiredness that pricked at her eyes from spending too many hours up at night with Draco and her homework and nodded at her reflection. Feeling confident in her outfit, she stepped out into the hallway from her bedroom, looking up and down to see if the other girls were ready, too.

"You clean up well, Granger," she heard Pansy say. Turning to face her, it took all of Hermione's effort not to let her jaw drop. The Slytherin was wearing a dress that reminded her of dragons and fire and Chinese New Year, bright and short and lacking material in all of the right places.

"Not so bad yourself, Pansy," Hermione offered. "Is Astoria ready?"

Pansy sniggered before answering. "She might think she's ready but I have the feeling Daphne won't let her out of the house dressed the way she is, even if it's just to the backyard."

Right on cue, Astoria's door open. The younger girl teetered out in high heels she could barely stand in, let alone walk, but Hermione had to admit she looked incredible.

"Astoria Greengrass, what on earth do you think you're wearing?" Daphne appeared from her room, putting her earring on. The bride-to-be took Hermione's breath away, a complete vision in her dress. "This is my engagement party and I will not have you embarrass me by walking around dressed like some cheap trollop."

"Girls, are you ready?" Eva called from downstairs. "The guests will be arriving shortly and the boys are already here!"

At the mention of the boys, Astoria let out a shrill giggle and turned on her heel before Daphne could say another word, marching down the stairs. Daphne just let out an exasperated sigh, muttered something under her breath, and followed suit, Pansy on her heels. Hermione trailed behind, feeling self-conscious as ever beside her glamorous friends. On the way to the staircase, she caught sight of herself in a mirror and used the brief moment to tighten her ponytail and take a deep breath to collect her thoughts.

She was greeted by the boys at the foot of the stairs. Blaise, too distracted with wooing his fiancé, barely glanced in her direction, but colour rose to Hermione's cheeks at the looks both Draco and Theodore gave her. Her boyfriend, in one of his rare moments, gave a genuine smile that warmed her heart. Her friend, on the other hand, stared at her in a manner which made her feel uncomfortable, guilt crawling into her chest and settling in her ribcage. Theo's arm was around Astoria but Hermione noticed how his eyes never left her as Draco greeted her with a kiss to the cheek.

"You look beautiful, Granger. I got something for you," her boyfriend said, pulling her to reality as the others filed out. From the inside pocket of his suit jacket, Draco withdrew a flat rectangular box, propping the lid open. Against the black velvet interior lay a pair of platinum earrings, simple and understated, but delicately crafted.

"They're beautiful," she said, reaching forward and touching them. "Are they-?"

"Diamonds," he said.

Hermione had noticed that the top of the earring was a diamond surrounded by platinum, shimmering in the light of the entrance hall.

"Draco, they're beautiful," she repeated. Having forgone earrings earlier, she removed them carefully from the box and put them on with the aid of a mirror, Draco hovering behind her in the reflection.

Before she could move away and join the others in the kitchen, his arms were wrapped around her waist, lips by her ear. Part of her resented the way he made her feel, how her legs went weak as he kissed her earlobe, down her neck.

"I like your hair like this," he murmured. "Makes things much more accessible."

"Don't get used to it," she said defiantly, shifting in his arms. "It's too much effort to do everyday." Having used more charms than she could count to tame her hair for the occasion, she did appreciate the compliment.

"I'm sure there's a way it could be made permanent."

Hermione stiffened. "I like my hair the way it is naturally. I have better things to do with my time than waste it on cosmetic procedures." She wormed her way out of his grasp.

"Image is important, whether you choose to believe it or not, Granger."

"I've done perfectly well so far in life without worrying for a second about how I look, thank you very much. In fact, until I started seeing you and being friends with your friends, I never second-guessed myself for a minute. But I suppose that looking good is all that matters to you, so I suppose I best be changing my attitude around that."

Before Draco could say a word, Hermione was on her way to joining the others. They had moved from the kitchen and into the garden, which although beautiful on any other day, had been transformed into a place of magnificence. With roses in full bloom and round tables covered in white cloths scattered about, the party reminded Hermione of something she had read in a book as a child, all pink and white and soft.

"Hermione!" Daphne called, waving her over. "What do you think?"

"It looks incredible," Hermione smiled. "The weather worked out well, too."

England's usually brisk April had come through for them, with blazing sunshine and warmth, allowing only a few mild heating charms to be implemented. The weather only amplified how lovely everything was, enhancing Hermione's soured mood, though something in the back of her mind still niggled at Draco's comments. Daphne vanished to attend with an apparent issue the caterers were having, leaving Hermione alone, if only for a moment.

"You look lovely today." Theo's voice was low and warm, comfortable.

"Hi," Hermione said. "Thank you."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Drake?"

"I'm fine, Theo."

Unconvinced, the Slytherin planted himself directly in front of her, arms crossed. "You can tell me, you know."

"Theodore, I'm fine. It's nothing. Where's Astoria?" Hermione asked, pretending not to notice the grimace on his face at his girlfriend's name.

"I suppose she's with her sister," he said.

"She really likes you, you know."

"Good for her." His voice was stiff and his eyes never left her face as they spoke. The intensity of his gaze made her feel uncomfortable and she shifted her weight from foot to foot.

"Theo, I'm seeing Draco."

"You've made that abundantly clear."

"Pardon me, but have I done something to offend you? Last I recall, we were on at least reasonably good terms, despite my love life which happens to be none of your concern, by the way." Theodore's stare didn't waver, so she continued: "Besides, you're with Astoria. You made a commitment to her and I feel it would be prudent if you paid her more attention."

"Tell me, Hermione, what do you see in Drake?" Theo asked. Hermione longed for the days of annoying, playful Theo.

"Theo-,"

"No, tell me. I want to know."

Hermione sighed. She could hear other guests beginning to arrive, Eva's bubbly tone of greeting, Daphne's smooth and soft conversation. She hoped there would be an escape route soon. "He's smart. He can be sensitive. He's witty, committed, and he stands up for what he believes in. He's sharp and soft at the same time. I feel safe when I'm with him. He makes me happy. Is that what you wanted to hear, Theodore? Does that make you feel any better?"

He opened his mouth, ready to respond, but was interrupted by the arrival of his girlfriend. "Astoria," he said, forcing his lips upwards into what was more of a grimace when she kissed his cheek.

"I'll leave you two alone," Hermione offered, giving Theodore a simpering smile as she turned away. The rest of the party had certainly begun to arrive and there was soft music in the early spring air. Walking until she was far enough from Theo that he would no longer be able to catch sight of her, Hermione searched through the people for any familiar face. It was when she saw a flash of platinum blonde hair that her breath caught in her throat.

Draco, back straight and hands in his pockets, was laughing at something a pretty witch in a short white dress had said, inching closer and resting her hand on his arm as she laughed at her own joke. The witch, pale with sleek black hair and an upper lip slightly too big for her lower, left her hand on Draco's arm until he took his hand from his pocket to check his watch, disturbing her.

Hermione was mortified when she realised a tear was rolling down her cheek, clapping her hand to her face to hide it before anyone noticed. The jealousy that fought inside her was a vivid ache. Was this the sort of girl Draco wanted? One who looked as though she had just stepped off the set of some glamorous movie? But she thought of all the times when she had been wearing just a jumper and a pair of jeans, fresh from the shower with her skin still pink, and he had still wanted her. But then why would he mention her image?

Summoning her Gryffindor courage that had been in such demand since her relationship's beginning, Hermione took the remaining steps that were between and her beau. "Sorry to interrupt, but Draco, may I borrow you for a moment?"

Draco looked at her intensely for a few seconds before answering. "Of course. Excuse me." The other witch frowned, clearly angling to spend the rest of the party with him, but nodded and gave the couple their privacy.

"I don't want to fight," Hermione said. When Draco looked as though he were about to reply, she held up a finger. "When I was with Ron, we fought all the time. We were either in bed or fighting, and that's not how I want this relationship to be. I want to be happy. I think we both deserve that. But I want to be able to leave the house in jeans and a comfortable shirt and not wear makeup and not feel as though I'm embarrassing you with my appearance. I like you. I really, really like you. And I don't want us to fight anymore and I want to be happy and I want that happiness to be with you."

Draco stared at her for a moment and she thought he might perpetuate the fight, but he kissed her, pulling her body against his, ignoring the soiree that continued around them. As usual, Hermione melted at his touch, winding her arms around his neck and kissing him back with everything she had. It wasn't until an elderly guest cleared her throat in passing that they broke apart.

"I think you're right, Granger," Draco said, still holding her. "We shouldn't fight anymore, unless we always make up that way."

"You're ridiculous."

Draco winked. "But seriously, you're right. Besides, I don't want to be anything like Weasley."

"Who was that witch you were talking to?" Hermione asked, trying to act innocent.

"Jealous, are we?" Draco asked. He smirked when Hermione flushed. "One of Blaise's cousins. What can I say, witches just can't resist the Malfoy charm."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Shall we get a glass of champagne?"

"As you wish, Granger." He released her for all but one hand and followed her through the throngs of people. They paused once or twice, Draco greeted by witches and wizards in expensive dress robes who gawked at Hermione as though she had a second head.

"I don't know how to relax at these parties," she complained when they reached the beverages, accepting a glass from Draco. "Everyone is so…Slytherin."

Draco lifted his shoulders in an elegant shrug. "Just smile and get through it. We could always leave early, if you wished."

"I would, but I spent a small fortune on this dress."

"And you look ravishing in it, but I think it would look even better as a crumpled mess at the foot of my bed."

Hermione shook her head. "You're ridiculous. Besides, Daphne would more than likely kill us both if we skipped out. And as a bridesmaid and a best man to this wedding, we should probably be present for the entirety of the party."

Draco kissed her temple. "You've just always got to be right, don't you?"

"I don't have to be, that's just how it ends up most of the time."

…

After sitting through hours of countless speeches and introductions to people who always seemed to sneer when Draco said her name, Hermione was exhausted. Draco spied his girlfriend looking dead on her feet as guests began to file out, the sun low on the horizon. Excusing himself from an old family friend, he ducked through to wrap an arm around Hermione's waist.

"Alright there, Granger?"

She yawned. "Fine. Just…" She paused to yawn again. "…tired."

He smirked. "Do you want me to put you to bed?"

"Please."

Draco smothered his own laughter at his girlfriend's feeble response, leading her through the back doors of the house and into the kitchen where Eva was on her way to rejoin the party. "I'm just going to take Hermione upstairs and put her to bed. I think she needs a good nap," he said to the Greengrass matriarch.

Eva frowned. "You know I don't like the girls having boys upstairs, Draco."

"Of course not. I'm simply making sure she makes it up there. In this state, I wouldn't be surprised if she gave up halfway and fell asleep on the stairs," he said. To punctuate his point, Hermione yawned loudly.

"Don't worry, Eva, I'll kick him out as soon as I get to my room," his Gryffindor commented, seeming to appease the elder witch.

"If I don't see you back down here in five minutes, Draco, then I'll be up to check on the both of you."

Agreeing to her terms, Draco led Hermione up the stairs with his hand on her lower back, frowning when she seemed close to stumbling in her shoes. They took the walk slowly, Hermione leading him to the spare bedroom where he had once spent a week hiding out from his father in the summer of his childhood. The room, though coloured differently now, brought back memories that made the faded scars on his back ache for a moment.

Hermione took no time in lying on the bed, still fully clothed, shoes and all. Draco smiled at his witch as she curled on her side and walked over to sit at the foot of the bed, taking her feet in his lap.

"Considering how opposed you were to damaging that dress earlier, Granger, you mightn't want to sleep in it," he suggested, taking her shoes off carefully and depositing them on the floor.

"D'you think I'm pretty?" she asked.

"What?"

"You said that I need to work on my image."

Draco inwardly cringed. "Granger, you're pretty. You've also had too many glasses of champagne and too little sleep."

"That wasn't particularly convincing," she said. "Do you wish I looked more like Blaise's cousin? Or Daphne? Or Astoria?"

Draco stared at his witch. "Are you listening to yourself, Granger?" He had never heard her speak like this, never thought it something she would ever be preoccupied with.

"You're the one who said it."

He sighed. "I grew up around witches who spend as much time on their hair as you do reading. I was raised believing that the better your presentation was to the world, the better your life would be. Complete bullshit, I know, but that's how I was taught. And people do respect you more if you look good." He moved to lie behind her, kicking his shoes off on the way, an arm around her waist. "But you're Hermione sodding Granger, so it really doesn't matter. And, by the way, if you ever try to look like Astoria, I'll pawn you off onto Ted so fast that it'll make your head spin."

Hermione relaxed against his body and he pulled her closer against him.

"You really do look fantastic in this dress though, Granger," he said, lips close to her ear. He kissed the spot just behind her ear, smirked at her contented sigh. "Now, go to sleep."

**A/N: This took too long. Sorry. I moved out of home and eight hours away and everything is so busy all the time, but this is a MASSIVE chapter so I hope that sort of makes up for it.**


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: Hello! A much shorter wait for this chapter than it was for the last one! I hope you enjoy it. I'll be on break from university for the next month so hopefully I'll have a bit more time to write for you all.**

**Please REVIEW!**

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><p><em><strong>The Great Hall<strong>_

_**Sunday, April 18**__**th**__**, 1999**_

_**12:00PM**_

_Draco,_

_It has come to my attention that your father and I have been quite remiss in inviting the young Miss Granger into our lives. As it seems she is an important part of your life, at least for the time being, we feel it prudent to invite you and your companion for a meal with us at your next available opportunity. Please pardon our bad manners in response to your new lifestyle choice._

_Love,_

_Your mother_

Draco rolled his eyes. _Companion_ and _lifestyle choice_ jumped out at him from the delicate paper his mother had written upon. He skimmed it again and then folded it neatly, returning it to the pale green envelope.

"Anything good, mate?" Blaise asked, leaning over.

Draco shook his head, lifted his hand to cover his mouth as he yawned. "Just something from my parents. Look, I've got to go and find Granger."

He ignored his friend's snort and clapped him on the shoulder as he passed by and out of the Great Hall. Hermione had awoken early, having stayed up studying until close to three o'clock in the morning. Her sleep had then been punctuated by intermittent waking, reaching for the textbook on the nightstand, and it wasn't until five o'clock when Draco moved it out of her reach did she finally get proper sleep. That said, Draco distinctly remembered his witch rising before her alarm went off at seven, waking him on her way. The whole ordeal had left him exhausted and his mother's letter had been just another added frustration.

Knowing her all too well, Draco knew Hermione would be working desperately in the library. She had been seated at her usual table right at the back, surrounded by books and a furious, crackling energy of focus. He wound his way through the corridors, nodding at Neville Longbottom as he passed. He had listened to his girlfriend when she asked him to at least maintain a level of civility with her friends, keeping any snide remarks to himself whenever he was near them.

Madame Pince shushed him as soon as he stepped into the library, insisting his shoes were far too loud on the hardwood floors. She looked him up and down, noticing the lack of study materials on his person, and clucked her tongue. Draco rolled his eyes at the librarian's turned back and continued past the winding shelves and stressed out students. As he had guessed, his witch was at the most isolated table. Though normally for four people, she had spread her books and parchment out to cover the entirety of the wood, taking diligent notes from a book as he approached.

Draco said nothing, taking a seat across from her and picking up one of the books she had left open. "Granger, your exam prep is getting out of control," he said, reading the first paragraph on the page. It was a text on ancient runes and was well above the level of comprehension they were expected to have, even at NEWT level. "Even if you go into a position at the Ministry, you probably won't need to know this." He gestured at the book he had read.

"Draco, I'm trying to study," she said, not looking up.

He stared at his girl, the dark circles under her eyes and pallour of her skin. Her hair spilled from a wild bun atop her head and her clothes were unpressed. "Granger, you look like shit," he said. Remembering their argument over the Easter break, he continued: "And you know I don't mean that in an offensive way, but living on less than five hours of sleep and minimal food for over a week now isn't doing you any favours."

Hermione placed her quill down and looked up. "Draco, I'm fine. I need to work."

He stared at her and reached across the table, taking her hands in his own and squeezing them. "Granger, what's wrong? You're normally completely psychotic come exam time, but this is taking it to a whole new level. You're not sleeping, you're barely eating, and you're not even spending time with me. We all know how hard I am to resist so there has to be something wrong."

"Draco, please. I just want to keep working." She tried to worm her hands out of his grasp but he resisted. "Nothing's wrong. I'm fine. I swear."

Draco frowned for a moment. Outside of asking Daphne to help, he had no idea of how to resolve the situation he faced. "Fine," he said, relinquishing his hold. "But my parents want to have lunch with us next time we have a Hogsmeade trip on."

She paled slightly then shook her head to collect herself. "Would you mind apologizing on my behalf? I just have too much to work to warrant going to Hogsmeade."

"Granger, don't be ridiculous."

"I'm not."

"You can give the study a break for an hour to have lunch."

"No."

Granger-,"

"Draco, no. I'm not going to have lunch with your parents. I'm not exactly at the stage in my life where I can share a bottle of wine with Narcissa Malfoy and break bread with Lucius."

"I know it's a lot to ask, but they're my parents. They're going to be a part of my life whether you like it or not, and if they're a part of my life, they're a part of yours as long as we're together."

Hermione's eyes shone. "Your father is the reason I don't have any parents. He knew what they looked like. He's the reason I'll never hug my mother or kiss my father again. I'm not prepared to have lunch with the man who did that to me. Your mother, perhaps, after everything she did for Harry, but I don't think I will ever be able to look your father in the eye with anything but hatred," she said. She began to collect her books, piling them into a bag which he knew must have an extension charm on it. "I'm going to go back to my room and continue working. I'll see you later."

He heard her footsteps echo their way out of the library, leaving him alone at her back table.

* * *

><p>Draco found Daphne in the spot she usually studied in when the weather began to warm up, curled by the lake with a book in her lap. He coughed to announce his arrival, not wanting to sit on grass. Daphne turned to look up at him.<p>

"Draco, hello. What's wrong?"

"How do you know anything is wrong?" he asked.

"Because you very rarely seek me out unless you need my advice, and you often only need my advice when it comes to Hermione."

"I don't know what's wrong with her. She isn't sleeping or eating and she won't talk to me about any of it."

"And?"

"What do you mean?"

Daphne sighed. "You've never been very good at keeping anything from me, Draco. What else is there?"

Draco shrugged. "My parents want to have lunch with us. A meet-the-parents sort of scenario. She isn't too thrilled by the prospect."

"And you're surprised by that?"

"Well, no. But I assumed she'd be a bit more open to the idea."

Daphne closed her book. "Draco, your girlfriend was held captive in your parents' house. And although they didn't directly participate in her torture, they facilitated it. Your father has antagonized her since she was twelve for reasons outside of her control. They have shown no shame in outwardly and aggressively hating her purely because of her blood status, again, a reason outside of her control. You can't expect her to forgive them for years of agony, both physical and emotional, purely because you two are sleeping together, to be crass."

"But I expected her to be a bit more rational about the whole situation. Surely if our relationship is to continue, she's going to be spending at least some time with my parents," Draco said. He wasn't proud of how desperate he was beginning to sound. "I mightn't have the best relationship with them, but they're still my parents. You'd think she'd understand that."

"I'm sure she does. But she only recently lost her parents and that wound is still fresh. She might not talk about it much, but I'm certain it still hurts." Daphne stopped, frowned at him. "You know, you should be talking to her about this."

He mirrored her expression. "Normally when I talk to you I come out from it with a brilliant idea of how to better my relationship. This time, I feel distinctly disheartened."

Daphne smiled. "It's not always going to be sex and sunshine, Draco."

He rolled his eyes. "Charming, Daph," he said. "Fine. I suppose I should have a word with her."

"Take a box of strawberry Sugar Quills, if you can," she advised. "They always lift her mood."

After rifling through his trunk, Draco had managed to scrounge up a box of his girlfriend's favourite sweet. He followed the familiar path up to her dormitory, hearing the sounds of the record he bought her on their first date as he climbed through the painting hole and up the stairs. It had become quite a regular occurrence for Hermione to play the record, the sound dropping into the background as they relaxed in her dormitory. The album had grown on him and he knew it pleased Hermione when she caught him humming along to the tunes.

His girlfriend was looking especially frazzled, hair still piled manically on her head. She looked up at his arrival, frowning. Again, he was struck by the circles under her eyes. Before she could announce her annoyance at his arrival, he presented her with the box of Sugar Quills, kissing her on the cheek.

"I'm not here to talk about my parents," he said as he settled on the sofa. "I want to talk about you."

For the first time in a week, she smiled. "You talked to Daphne, didn't you?" When he nodded, she leant back against the couch, abandoning her study temporarily. "I'm sorry I haven't been particularly fun to be around lately, Draco."

"I'll forgive you, Granger, if you tell me why you're so stressed." She didn't reply, so he continued: "Granger, we're a couple. You're my girlfriend, and that means you should talk to me. It isn't healthy for you to bottle this sort of thing up, and believe it or not, I want to know what's bothering you. It matters to me, particularly when it's to the point where it's also disturbing my sleep."

Hermione rolled her eyes, but sighed. "Look, it's just that you are so certain of what you want to do. Ron and Harry have their careers handed to them on a platter. Daphne is following in her mother's footsteps. Ginny is being scouted out for Quidditch. Neville has a guaranteed position working here next year. And I have all of these years of hard work and absolutely no idea of what I should do when I graduate," she said. "And now, NEWTs are so close and I thought that by now I'd have my life sorted out. But there's so much I'm interested in and I know that I should do something meaningful with my life but I can't figure out what. In a few months, I won't have Hogwarts to fall back on and then what am I going to do?"

Draco leaned over, pulling her into him. "It's not about what you should do. It's about what you want to do," he said. "If I recall correctly from one of the first civil, albeit intoxicated, conversations we ever had, you wanted to open up a bookshop."

"But what sort of life is that? I'm not going to be doing anything meaningful. All I'll be doing is working a job in retail and that isn't going to help anyone."

"In the same way that books never helped you?" he offered. "You've spent your entire teenage life saving the world from people like my father, like me. You played an integral part in stopping the most dangerous, demented wizard of all time. You've done enough public service to last at least four lifetimes. Now, you need to do what you _want_ to do. You can't keep trying to do what everyone else says you should."

Hermione bit her lip. "But I want to fight for equal rights and to abolish archaic pureblood laws. I want to work in government, too, but I can't make it my life. I don't know if my problem is that I don't know what I want to do or that there's too much I want to do."

"You can do it all, Granger. You can own your bookshop and you can work or volunteer or start your own sodding organization to promote equal rights. You're Hermione Granger, and as long as I've known you, you've been an overachieving, all-knowing witch who gets whatever she works for. Why would that change when you leave school?"

Hermione turned herself around on the couch to kiss him firmly. "I thought I was supposed to be the logical one in this relationship."

"Well, you've got to fall short sometimes," he replied.

"And I want to have lunch with your mother," she said. "I don't think I could stand it with your father there after everything he's put me through, but your mother saved Harry's life. And Daphne told me how much you love her so I want to be able to do it for you."

This time, it was Draco who instigated the kiss, pulling her in close and holding her face as he kissed her. "Thank you."

"You're my boyfriend, and I should tell you these things and learn to be comfortable around your family."

_**The Three Broomsticks**_

_**Sunday, April 25**__**th**__**, 1999**_

_**12:30PM**_

Hermione fidgeted with the hem of her shirt, standing at a table in the inn with Draco. His mother was due to arrive at any moment and she had spent the whole morning fretting over the meeting. She had been forced to visit Daphne to find an appropriate outfit, deeming all of her own sweaters and blouses to be too casual to meet Narcissa Malfoy in, and felt distinctly ill at ease in the new garment. Draco was at her side, nudging her every so often as he sipped at his Butterbeer.

"Granger, give it a rest," he said. "You look fine. My mother isn't taken by nervous people. They put her on edge and my mother on edge is not going to make for an enjoyable meeting."

"I'll give it a rest when this lunch is over," she said, punctuating it with a sigh. "Your family don't have a great history with me."

Draco pressed his palm to her cheek. "You'll be great." He kissed her lips chastely. "And when this is over, we can go back to your dormitory and not think about seeing my parents again for a very long time."

Hermione smiled at her boyfriend, opening her mouth to respond only to be distracted by the door to the tavern opening and Narcissa Malfoy's arrival. She was thankful she had borrowed a blouse from Daphne, the elder witch in an elegant dress more suited to a dinner party than a casual lunch at the inn. Hermione gripped Draco's hand firmly as she other witch spotted them, making her way over to them as she shrugged off her coat.

"Draco, my darling," Narcissa said, kissing her son on the cheeks. "Let me look at you. You're looking so well. So happy." The blonde turned to Hermione who froze under her gaze.

"Mother, this is Hermione," Draco said. Mechanically, Hermione lifted her hand. Narcissa took it softly, shaking it briefly. "My girlfriend."

"Of course. Lovely to meet you."

"You too," Hermione said.

Narcissa offered a thin smile. "Now, I've booked a private room upstairs so we can get away from all this racket. I can scarcely hear myself think down here. Shall we?"

Draco gestured for his mother to lead the way, leaning to whisper in Hermione's ear, "Relax."

"Draco, I'm not entirely sure this was a good idea," she replied in a low voice, but Narcissa was already a considerable way ahead.

"Just relax and you'll be fine," he repeated, leading her up a ramshackle staircase and into a private room.

Inside, a fireplace crackled brightly, casting a warm orange glow about the room. An intimate dining table had been set up in the center with three places set out, Narcissa already seated with her back to the fire, leaving Draco and Hermione to sit across from each other. Draco pulled her chair out for her before sitting down himself, Hermione fighting the urge to roll her eyes at his excessive display of manners.

"Draco, it seems you've taken to dressing down a touch," Narcissa commented as Hermione poured glasses of wine for them all. "Is that a trait you've developed from your new friend?"

"_Girlfriend_, mother," Draco said, sipping from his glass. "It's much more time efficient to not wear a suit every day. And it means I actually look like I'm deviating from my normal attire when I attend an event."

"I suppose that's one way of looking at it," Narcissa said. "But you do look so good in a suit, dear. And it offers such a powerful image to the world."

"I'd rather offer that image when I have power to back myself up with and am not an eighteen year old schoolboy."

Narcissa clucked her tongue. "I'm only trying to help, Draco. You could at least pretend to be grateful."

Conversation paused as Madame Rosmerta arrived with bowls of pea soup, serving them carefully and checking to see if there was anything else they required. Hermione was certain some strings had been pulled, never having been subjected to such formal treatment by the pretty barmaid. Despite the War, it seemed the Malfoys still had some weight behind them.

"Now, Miss Granger," Narcissa began. Hermione felt her face flush. "What is it you hope to do after this school year has finished? You have quite an impeccable academic record, or so I have heard."

"I'm not sure," Hermione admitted. "I'm interested in both law and politics but I wouldn't mind working outside the Ministry, either. I'm somewhat interested in owning my own business, too, but I'm still not positive on that front, either."

"Well, not long to work it out now," Narcissa said. "Best be getting a move on."

"Mother," Draco said sharply. "I'm sure that no matter what Hermione endeavours to do, she will be successful."

"Of course." Narcissa finished her soup, topping up her own glass of wine. "I'm simply saying that if she hopes to get a position within the Ministry then she should start applying soon. All the best spots close up very quickly after graduation. I wouldn't want for her to miss out on a job purely because of tardiness."

Again, Hermione resisted the chance to roll her eyes. "With all due respect, I'm well aware of what I need to do in order to be successful in my future," she said. "I have my own plans set out for me and though I've deviated from them in the past, I've certainly always returned to the correct path and have maintained a high degree of academic excellence even when participating in various external activities. Should I aim for a position in the Ministry, I'm certain that I will be able to get what I strive for."

Narcissa offered a true smile. "You're very sharp, Miss Granger," the elder witch commented. "I appreciate that."

"I'm glad," Hermione said. "What is it you did when you left Hogwarts?"

Narcissa pursed her lips. "I never pursued a career," she admitted. "I was a year younger than my husband at Hogwarts and by the time I graduated, he was already well-established in his career thanks to a series of familial connections and a strong business ethic. We married shortly after my graduation and I spent my younger years as a devoted wife to my husband, as was the way back then."

"If you were able to repeat it, would you choose a different path?" Hermione asked, wondering for a moment if she was prying. She rejected the thought when she realised how much it irked her that Narcissa glossed over the seriousness of her relationship with Draco.

"I've always had a fondness for Herbology. Part of my life as a housewife was spent working on the grounds of Malfoy Manor to landscape them. Perhaps I would have followed that course, had my life allowed it," Narcissa mused. "Of course, I don't regret the path I've taken. A career is all well and good, but at the end of the day, family is what's important."

"And social status, mother," Draco said. "Don't forget that."

Hermione held her tongue at Narcissa's comment about family, knowing that for her, a career was where she was going to invest her future. Although a family was on the cards someday, she had never hosted any particularly strong maternal feelings and was all too happy to keep it that way, particularly for the time being. The thought of being a housewife was abhorrent to her, knowing she would be dreadfully bored if she didn't have anything to do all way.

She let Draco take over the reigns of the conversation for the rest of the meal, chiming in every now and then with a comment and answering the few questions Narcissa asked her. By the conclusion of the meal, her perception of the matriarchal Malfoy had shifted. Whilst she had thought the woman to be cold at their first meeting, she now saw that the woman was just fiercely protective of Draco. Though she admired the quality, Hermione wasn't particularly fond of the woman, perceiving her as rude and possessing a holier-than-thou attitude somewhat similar to her son's, though Draco's was nowhere near as developed.

"Well, mother, we better be heading back to the castle," Draco said, the clock close to three. He rose as his mother did, Hermione catching on a second too late.

"Of course," Narcissa said. "It was lovely of you to take time out of your busy school life to see your mother, darling."

"Anytime," Draco said, kissing his mother on the cheek. "We'll walk out with you."

He helped Narcissa into her coat, and this time Hermione did roll her eyes as she pulled her own coat on. Again, Narcissa lead the way out of the tavern and into the perpetual winter of the little wizarding village. Here, they paused as Narcissa kissed her son's cheek again and patted it fondly. She then turned to Hermione.

"Miss Granger, it's been a pleasure," she said, offering her hand.

"Likewise," Hermione said.

"Hopefully next time my husband can attend our meeting."

"Perhaps," Hermione said shortly.

Narcissa smiled at her son one last time before apparating away with a flourish of her wand.

When she was gone, Draco grabbed Hermione and kissed her firmly, snow settling on them as they embraced in the street. "Not bad, Granger," he said when they broke apart.

"She didn't seem too impressed."

He smirked. "That's how my mother does 'impressed'. Did you really think you'd get anything more than that?"

"No, I suppose not." Still wrapped in his arms, she kissed him again. "Let's go back to the castle. I've missed out on plenty of studying time with this lunch."

Draco rolled his eyes as he released her. "There's no way I'm letting you study, Granger," he said. "I've got something significantly more fun in mind."

"It should probably concern me that lunch with your mother gets you rearing to go in bed," she said as they began the trek home.

"You won't be concerned about anything by the time I'm done with you."


	20. Chapter 20

_**Sunday, May 9**__**th**__**, 1999**_

_**Hermione's Dormitory**_

_**4:00PM**_

Whilst Hermione had been the one too busy to interact with Draco upon their return to Hogwarts after Easter, just two weeks following their lunch with his mother, she was the one to wake in an empty bed. As the end of term and the beginning of exams drew ever nearer, so did the final Quidditch match of the year, and her boyfriend was taking every spare moment possible to train. It had started with shortened meals and longer runs around the Black Lake, and had since extended to waking before dawn to train, forcing the team through rigorous sessions.

Now, as she sat in her dormitory with a textbook on her lap, she heard the approach of tired feet up the staircase, a gait she associated with Draco. Indeed, the Slytherin did appear at the archway, hair wet, matted across his forehead from the rain outside, training gear muddy.

Before either of them spoke, he was up the hall and into her bedroom. She heard the bathroom door shut and the water start up and knew that it had been a difficult training session. In order to placate her boyfriend, Hermione unfolded herself from the couch and set about fixing a pot of tea and a few snacks. She was just carrying the tray over to the coffee table when Draco emerged, hair messy and dripping, skin pink from the shower.

"I made tea," she said. She moved to sit down, but Draco was in front of her, pulling her back to her feet. He kissed her, softly at first, and then hard enough to take her breath away. "What was that for?"

"For making it a good day."

"How was training?" she asked, resuming her seat.

"Shit," he said. "The rain is the problem."

"Gryffindor won't show any mercy, you know that," she reminded him. When she had spent any time with Ginny recently, the fiery redhead and captain of the Gryffindor team had been talking nonstop about her determination to take the Quidditch Cup one last time whilst she was still at school. "And Ginny says there'll be scouts at the final, too. She's already being looked at by a few teams."

"But no pressure or anything," Draco muttered.

"Draco, you'll be fine," Hermione said.

"And who will you be cheering for from the stands?" he asked.

"You, of course," she answered. "I'll be cheering for you but hoping that Gryffindor win."

He frowned. "As a Seeker, your strategy seems problematic," he said, "but I'll take it anyway. I suppose it's the most I'm going to get."

"I'm most definitely still a Gryffindor at heart, and Ginny would absolutely murder me if I was in the Slytherin stand. Not to mention Harry and Ron who are coming to the match, too."

"It just gets better and better," Draco sighed, putting an arm around Hermione and pulling her against him. She propped her feet up on the sofa, resting her head in his lap. "Will you at least come to victory party?"

"If you win, I suppose I will," Hermione grinned. "Otherwise I'll be attending the pity party. But I'd have to go to Gryffindor's celebratory party first." She felt him sigh. "But I'm certain that yours will be the winning team. Honestly, with the frequency of your training sessions and their intensity, it seems highly improbable that you'll lose. You've got a strong team, Draco."

"The problem is that so do Gryffindor. Even without Potter they manage to pull the biggest victories out of nowhere."

"Draco, you know I hate talking Quidditch," she said. "You're the better Seeker, and in the scheme of things, that's what matters. Just forget about the rest of your team and go after the Snitch."

"That's brilliant advice, Granger. I never thought that I should go for the Snitch. All this time I've been aiming to catch the Quaffle."

"You're hilarious," she said, sitting up. "If you don't want my help then don't ask for it." She stood, clearing away the used cups with a flick of her wand. "Anyway, I promised I'd meet up with Ginny so I have to go."

"Meeting with the enemy?" Draco asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Your enemy but my best friend." Hermione bent down and kissed him quickly, smiling against his lips when he pulled her back onto the couch. "Draco, I have to go," she said, but he paid her no mind as he kissed along her jaw and down her neck. She sighed as he moved back up to her lips, moving against his in sync.

"Still want to go and see Weasley?" he asked between kisses. His hand fiddled with the hem of her shirt, fingertips grazing her lower back in a way that sent lightning down her spine.

"No," she admitted, "but I promised I would." With great reluctance, she pulled herself away from Draco, not letting him get one last kiss, knowing that it would tip her over the edge and she'd never make it to Ginny. "I'll be back in a couple of hours."

"You're ruining me, Granger," he said.

"I'll take that as a compliment," she replied, tucking her wand into her back pocket as she ducked down the stairs and out into the halls of Hogwarts.

With the rain, students were milling about inside, the weather forcing them to return to their studies with the upcoming approach of exams. On her way to the Gryffindor common room, where she and Ginny had agreed to meet, Hermione passed several groups huddled in the corridors, working away and revising. She paused for a brief chat to Neville who had donned a rain jacket, on his way to the greenhouses to help Professor Sprout with some repotting.

Ginny was waiting in the common room, curled into one of the plushest armchairs, the other one reserved for Hermione. Of course, as soon as Hermione sat down, Ginny jumped in, asking if she knew anything about the Slytherin's tactics for the upcoming match.

"Gin, even if I did, I wouldn't tell you," Hermione said, trying not to roll her eyes at her friend's behaviour. She knew Ginny was under a lot of pressure with the scouts coming out to watch her play. "Just play smart. You know what to do."

"Yeah, get Malfoy and Zabini out early," Ginny said. Upon seeing Hermione's disgruntled face, she continued. "Look, I won't pretend to understand what you see in him, but if we get Malfoy out, they have no Seeker. It's just tactics. Not personal."

"Can we talk about something that isn't Quidditch related? That's all Draco talks about at the moment and it's doing my head in."

"Fine," Ginny agreed. "How is your Potions assignment going? Ready to present?"

What was arguably the biggest assignment during their life at Hogwarts was due into Slughorn the next day, each pair needing a completed sample of their potion with documentation proving the research and time they had spent on it. Hermione, though certain her assignment with Draco was up to scratch, was quite nervous. She knew that Draco being accepted into the Healer program at St Mungo's was largely reliant on the outcome of their work, and although they had proven that it worked in the past, the anxiety still rested in her.

"I think so. We've done one trial and it worked well, though not perfectly. There's a lot riding on this assignment for Draco, so hopefully it works out. How's your potion?"

"Oh, you know. Getting there," Ginny said. "Honestly, schoolwork isn't top priority right now. If I can do well in Quidditch then that's what's important. That and getting married are what matter."

"Have you and Harry talked at all about the wedding?" Hermione asked, angling to steer the conversation away from Quidditch again. She was successful, Ginny beginning to talk about how she wanted to be married soon, but not _too _soon, that she wanted to be certain of her career before the wedding.

Pleased for the chance to catch up with one of her closest friends, Hermione sunk into her chair and let the conversation flow, covering everything from Ginny's nuptials to their Transfiguration exam until it was time for dinner. Ginny, the Weasley that she was, claimed that she was starving.

"I'd better go check on Draco," Hermione said. "He's in my room, completely wrecked from training. I'll meet you down there."

"Suit yourself," Ginny said.

They climbed through the portrait hole, walking part of the way together in a comfortable silence until Hermione broke away to return to her dormitory. Climbing the stairs, she couldn't hear a sound coming from her room, and she wondered whether or not Draco had returned to the Slytherin common room in her absence. However, upon entering her dormitory, she saw him lying down on the couch, fast asleep, hair in his eyes.

She smiled, gathering a blanket from her bed to lay over him and gently lifting his head to place a pillow beneath it. He hardly stirred, even when she pushed the hair back from his face, and she didn't have the heart to wake him for dinner. Instead, she made herself a cup of tea and sat with it on the floor by the coffee table, her notes for the Potions presentation spread out around her. The scratching of her quill was the only sound in the room until the temperature started to drop and she lit a fire in the grate, her note taking accompanied by merry crackling.

Having finished reviewing their first attempt at the potion, Hermione heard Draco stir behind her. A quiet groan and the rustle as he threw the blanket away.

"What time is it?" he asked and she glanced at her watch.

"Oh. Eight o'clock. We missed dinner," she said. "I didn't realize how late it was."

He joined her on the floor, stretching out so his feet extended beneath the coffee table and his back rested against the lounge. "I'm starved. I can't even think about Potions until I get some food. How was Weasley?"

"She was good," Hermione said, standing up. "I don't really have anything substantial to eat. I'll ask a house elf to make something."

"I thought you didn't like that house elves work for wizards," Draco said, leaning forward and surveying her notes. "Didn't you start that ridiculous campaign when we were younger?"

"I don't like house elves being kept as slaves, but if they're being paid for their services and are happy to be working, I have no problems with them. It's only when people like your father treat elves the way he treated Dobby." She felt a tug at her heart at the mention of the deceased house elf. "Winky!"

There was a sharp crack in the air and the house elf appeared in the room, dressed in a neat pink blouse and skirt. "You called for Winky, miss?" she squeaked, bowing.

"There's no need to bow, Winky," Hermione said, crouching down so she was eye level with the elf. "How are you going?"

"Winky is fine, miss. Winky has stopped drinking Butterbeer and is happy to be serving at Hogwarts."

"That's wonderful," Hermione placed a hand on the elf's tiny shoulder. "Now, I was wondering if I could ask you a favour? Could you please bring us some dinner? We don't need much."

"Of course, miss. Winky is most happy to help!"

There was another crack and she disappeared. Hermione rejoined Draco on the floor.

"Do you know all the sodding house elves at Hogwarts?" he asked, putting an arm around her shoulders.

"No, not personally. I only know two of them. Winky had a drinking problem and I like to check that she's okay from time to time," Hermione said.

"You're so bloody strange," Draco replied, kissing her temple.

Winky reappeared, a large tray held in her hands. As usual, the elves had overcompensated, and the tray was laden with two types of soup, four plates of sandwiches, a jug of pumpkin juice, and three different choices for dessert. Hermione leapt up to help the elf, placing the tray on the counter in the kitchenette and thanking Winky once more.

"'Tis no problem at all, miss," she squeaked, bowing low and vanishing.

Draco joined Hermione in serving himself, piling multiple sandwiches on the one plate and scooping out two plates of soup. They settled at the dining table, neither feeling particularly talkative, and ate in silence. Draco went back for two more sandwiches and another bowl of soup.

"How can you possibly need to eat that much?" Hermione asked, consistently baffled by the sheer amount of food boys (and Ginny) managed to consume.

"Quidditch," Draco said. He scooped up the last of his soup, clearing their plates with a flick of his wand, and bringing over dessert. A small apple pie for her, another for him, plus a bonus fruit plate to share. "Also, Granger, how much work do you plan on presenting to Slughorn? We're already going to be the most accomplished pair in the class. There's no need to rub it in everyone's faces."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I documented each stage of the brewing process as well as our initial recipes and each test we went through. I think it's all crucial information for him to receive."

"Including the topless kissing?" Draco smirked.

"If I recall correctly, you were the only one topless," Hermione said, clearing their finished dessert plates. She returned to her seat on the floor, pulling her work towards her.

Draco joined her on the floor and they worked in silence until midnight when their textbooks closed and, with Draco almost too weary to make his way to the bedroom, they retired for the night.

* * *

><p>"NO!"<p>

Hermione woke herself up with her scream, skin sticky with sweat. A red-hot light burnt behind her eyes. She could feel herself shaking and a distant sound that reminded her of Draco's voice but couldn't possibly be. Her skin prickled all over and each mark that remained from Bellatrix's blade seared in pain. In her mind, there was still a cackle and an ominous hum, accompanied by the sound of a knife through flesh.

"Hermione," came the almost-Draco through the fog. There was pressure on her arm, a hand against her skin. It cooled the area and she could feel the haze lifting, the impossible sounds fading. "Hermione, it was just a nightmare. You're okay. I'm here. I have you."

With no idea of what else she could do, Hermione dissolved into tears, curling her body into Draco's chest. His unclothed torso was chilled with the night air and she lay a cheek against it. "We were dying," she said. "All of us. Over and over. And I couldn't stop it. None of us could stop it."

"It was just a nightmare," he reminded her, running a hand through her hair.

"I watched you die," she said, getting a handle on her emotions, "and I couldn't do anything."

"But I'm right here." He shifted her up so her head was back on a pillow, wiping away the last tears that escaped with a delicate hand. "I'm right here and I'm alive."

Hermione took a few deep breaths. "I'm sorry," she said. "I'm sorry I woke you."

"Granger, it's fine. It's almost five o'clock and I was going to get up then for a run, so it's really fine."

"I'm going to have a shower," she decided, flinging off the sheets.

It wasn't until the water was scalding that Hermione stepped into the cubicle, letting the spray wash away the salt that clung to her skin. She shuddered at memories of her nightmare, forcing her mind to other things. It drifted to the weekend prior, to the solemn cloud that had hovered over Hogwarts on the anniversary of the battle. There had been a service held in the main courtyard and a more formal affair she had been invited to at the Ministry, but Hermione had woken with her heart in her stomach and had spent the day in bed.

Whilst she had thought she was coping well now that her life was well on track, the one year anniversary had reminded her of all the horrors of the battle, even if it was only for a day. She had sprung out of bed as usual the following day, but Sunday had been spent with red eyes, a desperate longing for her parents, and an exceptional number of tissue boxes.

She shut off the water and grabbed a towel, wrapping it tight around her body and returning to her bedroom. She could hear Draco in the kitchen and changed into her uniform, pulling her hair into a bun at the sounds of china clinking.

When Hermione joined him in the kitchen, he had made a pot of tea and taken them over to the lounge where the fire was crackling. It was a merry situation, lifting her mood and warming her from the inside out. He came over to her, cupping her face and kissing her softly.

"Feeling better?" he asked, pulling her over to the couch and pouring out their tea. He sat down and pulled her against him, left arm wrapped around her torso. Against his pale skin, the faded Dark Mark shifted with his muscle movements. Hermione placed her fingertips against the mark, tracing it. "Sorry. Forgot to put a bandage on."

"It's fine," she said, pressing down. "Really." Draco shuddered at her touch, the snake trembling with the movement. "Did it hurt?"

Draco sipped at his tea. "A bit," he admitted. "More when he called for us. Then it would burn."

"I'm sorry."

"What do you have to be sorry for, Granger? It was my choice. No one forced me to take the Mark."

"You were just a kid, Draco," she said. "And it wasn't as though you'd had any chance to learn anything different. It was less your choice and more your father's."

He shrugged. "I suppose," he said. "But I can't change it so I don't dwell on it anymore. It was hell, I survived, I moved on."

"Do you still have nightmares?"

"Not when I'm sleeping with you. This is the first you've had in months."

Hermione paused her tracing of the tattoo. "I think it was last week. The anniversary just brought everything back. I keep remembering the battle over and over and I suppose it leeched into my unconscious mind." She recalled the screams. "It was awful."

He kissed her again. "It was hell. You survived. We move on, Granger."

_**Monday, May 10**__**th**__**, 1999**_

_**Potions Classroom**_

_**2:00PM**_

Draco could tell his girlfriend was nervous as Slughorn called their names out to come and present their work. He hid a yawn behind his hand as they made their way to the professor's desk, notes in hand. Hermione had three times the amount of work he had to hand in and he could hear her going through her lines beneath her breath.

"Nutter," he whispered to her."

"Draco, m'boy, and Miss Granger!" Slughorn said. "Take a seat. Let's see what you've got for me." They handed their work over and let him scan quickly through their notes in silence. He paused on the recipe, nodding his head. "Well, it all appears to be in order. I've got your vials of the potion in storage but it appears your documentation is very sufficient. I look forward to looking through it properly. You two will go far, I'm sure."

Draco noticed Hermione seemed a bit deflated at the lack of formality or proper presentation, thanking Slughorn quietly and returning to her seat to pack her things.

"Smile, Granger," he suggested. "We get out of class an hour and a half early and we've just finished the biggest assignment of the year."

"I just thought there'd be more of a presentation," she said, putting her bag over her shoulder as he reached down and picked up the last of her books.

"Yeah, well, Slughorn knows that our potion will work. He's just doing this out of necessity. He might require more reassurance for someone like Blaise or Ted."

"Theo's very smart," Hermione said. "I doubt his work will be a problem."

Draco ignored the twinge in his mind at his girlfriend's affectionate tone. "He's not the best potioneer. Too heavy-handed with the ingredients."

She nodded. "I suppose I can see that. I feel like I haven't talked to Theo in an age," she said. And then, as if sensing his frustration, she added, "Daphne, too."

"You're always holed up to study," he said. They began climbing the stairs to her room. "Besides, you can't see Theo until after the final. He needs all the free time to practice that he can get."

"And you don't want me to be left alone in the same room as him," Hermione supplied.

Again, the twinge. "Would you want me to be left alone in a room with Pansy?" he asked.

"I wouldn't _want_ it, but I trust you enough and know you'd stand your ground in precisely the same way I would if I were in a room with Theo."

"Perhaps that wasn't the most apt comparison. Pansy can at least take 'no' for an answer. Theo is far more persistent."

Hermione reached forward and tickled the squid tentacle on the painting, twisting the knob when it appeared. "And I'm quite capable of hexing his bollocks into next week," she said. "I'm perfectly capable of looking after myself."

"Girls always say that before they get involved with Ted," Draco said. "He even fucked Pansy over so badly that she was acting like a Hufflepuff."

"I'm not 'getting involved' with anyone but you, Draco," she snapped, putting her bag on the couch. "Honestly, you acting like this is getting kind of old. It's none of your business who I see unless it's romantic, and I have no intentions of seeing anyone romantically aside from yourself. I'd appreciate it if you could at least _trust_ me to spend time with my friend."

"If I recall correctly, the last time you had time with your 'friend', he cornered you and harassed you into spending time with him."

"Oh, don't be so dramatic," she said. "He hardly cornered me and harassed is most certainly not the right word. The way you're acting right now, I'd rather be spending time with him than you."

He could tell she regretted the words the moment she said them but didn't leave a chance for retraction. "Well, good. I'll go back to my common room, then. Would you like me to send Ted up for you?" he asked, grabbing his bag and turning on his heels, marching back down the stairs and letting the painting slam behind him.

Something about his face must have scared passersby who seemed to dodge and weave around his approaching figure. He made it to the Slytherin Common Room in record time, a huddle of first years acting as though he had snarled at them and shrieking as they scuttled out of his way.

"Bad day, Drake?" Theo asked from his vantage point of the best chairs in the room.

"Fuck off, Ted," Draco said as he walked past and up to the dormitory. He felt out of place, having spent so little time in the room recently, and it took a moment for him to orientate himself. When he did, he dumped his bag on his bed, realizing he was still carrying his girlfriend's books. He fought the urge to pitch them against the wall.

Instead, he searched for some clothes he could exercise in and changed quickly, flipping Theo off again on his second trip through the common room and ignoring his confused look. If he couldn't break something (most tempting of the breakable things was Ted's nose) then Draco knew he would have to settle for a long run.


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N: Hello! I'm quite happy with this chapter. It's something a bit different. There's not much left to come, I'm afraid, but I am working on another Harry Potter story so hopefully that'll be up soon! **

**Let me know what you think in a review.**

* * *

><p><em><strong>Sunday, May 16<strong>__**th**__**, 1999**_

_**The Great Hall**_

_**2:00PM**_

Hermione's week had been utterly dreadful.

She had been enduring nightmares each night, had spent the entire time not speaking to Draco, had been chastised by Daphne for not handling her relationship with a more mature approach, and had been studying like mad for the exams that were barely two weeks away. It had been a nightmare of a time and now, though she had a Transfiguration essay to polish off and an Arithmancy exam she wasn't certain she'd pass, the final Quidditch match of the season was upon them.

Harry and Ron had decided to attend, primarily at Ginny's insistence, and were meeting Hermione so they could walk down together. Whilst she was to be standing in the Gryffindor section and rooting for her house team, Hermione had still tied a green ribbon around the top of her ponytail for her boyfriend. Everyone around them was either in red and gold or green and silver and tensions had been high all week. Classes had been quiet, partners refusing to speak to each other for barracking for the other team. This was to be truly the only way the lions and snakes could battle out their pent up aggression and Hermione was certain both would utilize it to the fullest extent.

"Hermione!"

She turned at the sound of Harry's voice, his messy black hair bobbing through the crowd in tow with Ron's shaggy red mane. A few of the younger students, mainly first years, turned in awe, whispering behind their hands as they followed the duo with their eyes. The audience only increased when Hermione embraced the pair, truly thrilled to see her best friends after the nightmarish six days she had endured.

"You look exhausted," Harry said, frowning.

"Exams have me stressed," she said, feeling guilty about excluding the other multitude of reasons for the bags under her eyes. "Come on, we're going to be late."

The caught up on each others lives on the walk to the Quidditch pitch, Ron pointing out the green in her hair with a scrunched up nose. Both he and Harry were sporting bright red and gold jumpers, no doubt a product of Mrs Weasley's tireless efforts. Ron rolled his eyes at her gesture for Draco, Hermione choosing to ignore him for fear of her emotions overcoming her at the thought of the unresolved fight.

They climbed the stairs up to the Gryffindor section of the viewing stands. In their eagerness, the boys pushed their way right to the front until the trio were up tight against the railings. The rest of the audience was a clashing sea of colours, primarily Gryffindor, though the Slytherin team had gained quite a following for their prowess on the pitch.

"_Hello, everyone._" Luna's dreamy voice drifted over the stadium as the gates were lifted for the teams' arrival. _"Welcome to the Quidditch final of the year. Today we have Gryffindor and Slytherin in competition for the Cup, with sides having equal footing unless either has encountered a Nargle outbreak."_

Ron's laughter bristled in Hermione's ear as the teams began to fly out, Gryffindor first, followed by Slytherin who were greeted by a surprising amount of enthusiasm. From her vantage point, she spied Draco as he circled the stadium, eyes glancing down to the Gryffindor stands. She was certain there was no way he could have missed her stare.

"_And the quaffle has been released! Gryffindor in possession, their Beater seems quite confident, Mr Creevey, I think, and he's taken aim-,"_

There was a groan from the Gryffindor stands as Dennis Creevey's well-aimed bludger sailed past Blaise, leaving the Slytherin free to defend the goals as the quaffle was launched. He tossed it to a free Slytherin chaser who, despite Gryffindor's best efforts, scored to a deafening roar from the green stands.

Though she was trying to pay attention to the main action, Hermione's eyes had drifted towards her boyfriend. Draco was hovering high above the action, clapping along with the crowd and commending his team. He glanced in her direction and Hermione could have sworn he was grinning at her before flying off in search of the snitch.

The game progressed in a similar fashion until Slytherin were ahead by ten points, Gryffindor resting on forty, having just managed to dislodge Blaise from his careful guard of the hoops with a bludger directed to his head. He had ducked in time to avoid brain damage, but the quaffle had found its mark, leaving the crowd to erupt in cheers.

Now, Hermione searched the sky for Draco's blonde hair, seeing him perched almost out of eyesight. As soon as she found him, he darted downwards, seemingly in pursuit.

"_It appears that the Malfoy is in pursuit of an herd of gnarliners._"

The crowd now joined Hermione in the watching of Draco as he weaved between players, the Gryffindor seeker on fast approach. From the stands, she held her breath, nails digging into her palms as the blonde head duck beneath Ginny in an elegant move. Ginny yelled a profanity at the streak of green as it passed.

"He's going to get it," Harry said from beside her, voice barely a whisper. She could feel the frustrated energy radiating from her best friends as Draco reached forward, wrapping the fingers of his right hand around the snitch. In that moment, a hurtling bludger, directed by Dennis, collided with the front of Draco's broom, where his left hand had been gripping the handle.

Hermione's scream was lost beneath the deafening groans and cheers of the crowd as the win was awarded to Slytherin. No one had registered the brutal collision yet and were all relishing or commiserating, but Hermione had broken free of the crowds and was running down the many staircases until she broke onto the pitch. The teams were just landing and she could see the twist of Draco's face. His feet touched down, snitch still clasped in his right hand, barely managing the landing with his left arm close to his chest.

His teammates surrounded him quickly, noticing the injury, and Hermione had to struggle to break through the huddled green mass. The snitch had been released and lay unmoving on the ground beside Draco. Hermione bent to pick it up, holding it tightly.

"Oh, Draco," she said when she recognized how much pain he was in.

"Hey, Granger," he said, smirking despite the limb he clutched to his chest. "Aren't you even going to congratulate me?"

"Maybe after we get your arm fixed," she said. "Then I'll congratulate you."

He rolled his eyes but let her lead him towards the medical tent set up near the pitch, a new addition since the number of injuries in the inter-house cup had increased, where Madame Pomfrey was tending to a Gryffindor with a sprained ankle and a spectator from Hufflepuff who was suffering from an intense headache following the heated match.

"Madame Pomfrey, please," Hermione said to the consistently busy matron who was bustling between two patients. "I think Draco has broken his wrist."

The nurse chattered about the dangers of the sport and the necessity for more protective gear as she disregarded her two other patients for a few moments in order to look after Draco. She rifled through a case of vials in search of a particular one, instructing Draco to lie down on one of the gurneys that were laid out. He did so, Hermione taking hold of his uninjured hand and sitting beside him.

"I don't know if I'm supposed to apologise," she said. "We were both wrong, I suppose."

"And too stubborn to admit it," he said. His face shifted with pain. "You look tired."

"So do you," Hermione countered, reaching forward with her free hand to touch the circles under his eyes. "I suppose neither of us really benefit from our fighting."

They were interrupted by Madame Pomfrey's arrival, holding a vial with light blue liquid. "Now, Mr Malfoy, if you wouldn't mind holding out your injured arm. This won't hurt at all." She tapped her wand gently against his skin three times before the tip glowed a bright red and there was a sharp cracking sound. Draco yelled out. "Now, take this." She handed him the vial which he swallowed in a gulp, grimacing.

"I thought you said it wouldn't hurt," Hermione said, massaging her hand. Draco had squeezed it with brutal ferocity when his arm was being set.

"I find that telling patients that a procedure will hurt only makes them less inclined to cooperate," Madame Pomfrey said. "Now, Mr Malfoy, I wouldn't try to do any heavy lifting for a few hours, but you'll be back to normal in four hours. Come back to me if there's any persisting pain. Off you go."

They exited the medical tent to be greeted by cheers from the Slytherin team, a sour looking Gryffindor team, complete with a tearful Ginny, and an even more disgruntled looking Professor McGonnagall, who had the Quidditch Cup in her hands.

"Congratulations, Draco," Hermione said, kissing his cheek and stepping aside for his team to gather him to accept the cup. She took her place with the Gryffindors, grinning as her boyfriend took the cup from the headmistress and was hoisted onto the shoulders of his teammates. The Gryffindor team made its departure, Hermione joining them out of respect for her housemates. They trudged back up towards the castle in silence.

Hermione split off from the rest of the group to head to her dormitory, feeling it would be best to change from her Gryffindor colours before attending the Slytherin's celebration. The whole castle was abuzz with the Quidditch match and a few passing students offered her commiserating looks. Despite Gryffindor's loss, Hermione was still thrilled at her boyfriend's performance and their reconciliation. She took the stairs to her dormitory two at a time, a new idea creeping into her head.

She showered quickly, making sure she smelled of strawberries and her hair was as clean as it could be, drying herself off and moisturizing deeply.

Upon reaching her bedroom, she stripped down completely and rifled through her underwear drawer, withdrawing a bra and knicker set that she had bought on a whim when shopping with Daphne over the Easter break. A deep emerald green, they were lace and silk and the most decadent undergarments she owned, costing her a small fortune despite the lack of material they offered. She bit her lip, deliberating for a couple of moments before pulling them on. Over the top, she added a sensible wool sweater dress and tights, tucked her feet into some flat black boots. She kept the ribbon in her hair, a teaser for Draco of things to come.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Later that day<strong>_

_**The Room of Requirement**_

_**6:00PM**_

Hermione grinned at Blaise's story, perched on the arm of the chair Draco's chair, his arm wrapped around her to keep her steady. The party was in full swing, the room decorated in typical Slytherin colours with free flowing liquor and even a fully stocked buffet so the intoxicated students didn't have to stumble down to the Great Hall for dinner. Two hours in and the majority of partygoers were blind drunk, ignoring the Monday morning that loomed only a few hours away.

She had indulged in two drinks and was feeling pleasantly warm and comfortable, ready to enjoy the rest of the night. Draco's fingers pulled absently at the fabric of her dress, a firewhiskey in his other hand as Blaise continued with his anecdote, pulling a few laughs from his small audience. They all stopped and turned, however, when they heard raised voices and commotion.

The boys both stood, ready to intervene should a fight take place. Daphne, who had been in the same position as Hermione on Blaise's chair, approached the noise at the sound of familiar voices.

Theo and Astoria were shouting at each other, Theo trying to break away whilst the latter tailed him, mascara on her cheeks, hair in disarray.

"Tori, what's wrong?" Daphne asked, stepping forward to collide with her younger sister and wrap her arms around her. The smaller witch sobbed into Daphne's blouse.

"He's _dumping_ me," she said when she had collected herself, stepping away from the sodden mess that was her sister's shirt. The music in the rest of the party was thankfully loud enough that most of the other guests hadn't noticed the disruption. Astoria rounded on Hermione. "He's dumping me because of _you_," she accused, jabbing a finger in Hermione's direction.

"Astoria," Daphne said, "don't be ridiculous."

"But it's true, isn't it?" Astoria asked, turning to Theo who was looking exceptionally collected for what was such a turbulent circumstance. "Tell them!"

He had the decency to flush for a moment. "I'm breaking up with you because you're too clingy and needy and it was never going to work between us, anyway. It was just a bit of fun."

"You complete asshole!" Astoria said. Hermione was certain that if she'd had anything heavy in her hand, the young Slytherin would have pitched it at Theo's head. But before she could speculate too much, Astoria had rounded on her. "And _you_! Princess Granger! What's so special about _you_? First Draco, then Theo? Why couldn't you just stay with your rotten ginger fiancé?"

Hermione blanched. She had never done anything to hurt Astoria or her relationship, making sure to steer clear of discussing anything at all romantic with Theo for fear he would turn the conversation around to the feelings he had for her.

"Well?" Astoria asked again.

"I never did anything to hurt you, Astoria," Hermione said. "I don't even know you. Honestly, if you think that it is in anyway _my_ fault that boys don't like you, then surely you have some growing up to do. You can't go about projecting your faults onto other people when they might actually lie inside of you. I'm sorry that Theo broke up with you but it has _nothing_ to do with me."

Astoria glared at her, words failing, and promptly turned on her heel and departed. Daphne had a few choice words for Theo before following after her sister, leaving Hermione with the three boys.

"Well, that was exciting," Blaise said. "Who wants another drink?"

"I'll take one," Theo said, he and Blaise resuming the seats that Draco had left. They were soon both holding glasses of firewhiskey, Blaise joking to Theo about how unhappy his fiancée would be thanks to her now brokenhearted sister.

"Granger, are you alright?" Draco asked her, placing his hands on her upper arms. Over her boyfriend's shoulder, she could see Theo watching their exchange.

"Not really," she admitted. "I'm angry."

"At Astoria?"

"Yes. And at Theo, for treating her like that and for making me have to take the blame for the failure of their relationship," she said. "You were right. He just uses them up."

"He's my best mate but he's a complete arse," Draco said. "You don't have to take any of the blame for their messed up excuse for a relationship."

Hermione sighed. She broke her gaze away from Theo, his stare still at Draco's back, and leaned into her boyfriend, wrapping her arms around him. "I know. But I'm just not in the celebratory mood anymore," she said. "You stay. I'm just going to go to bed. You can come up later."

"Granger, I don't want to stay here if you're not here. Theo's going to act like a right prick," he said.

"But it's your victory party," she said.

"I can think of ways you and I can celebrate," Draco smirked. Hermione flushed, her mind wandering to the lingerie she was wearing, and anxiety about whether or not Draco would like it began to set in. "Just give me a minute and we can go." He pulled her towards Blaise and Theo, grabbing his jacket and putting it on. "We're off," he said.

"What, at seven o'clock?" Blaise asked. He had indulged in a few too many firewhiskeys.

"Granger isn't feeling so great after Astoria's little assault on her, so thanks for that, mate," Draco said, clapping Theo on the shoulder. "So we're going to head off and celebrate our own way."

Hermione's cheeks pinked and she was thankful for the ambient light of the party to drown out her discolouration.

"Hermione, can I talk to you for a second?" Theo asked, rising. She saw her boyfriend's eyes narrow.

"I suppose," she acquiesced, making no move to shift from her spot in front of the other two boys. Theo paused for a moment before putting a hand on her lower back to guide her away. They had only walked a few metres – just out of earshot – before she stood her ground. "You know, I don't appreciate being blamed for your inadequacies with your girlfriend. It isn't fair in the slightest that I should have to be yelled at by a silly little girl because you didn't want to sleep with her anymore."

"Hermione, I didn't want you to come into it," Theo said. "But I couldn't keep seeing Astoria."

"Breaking up with her isn't exactly going to change my mind about my relationship with Draco, Theo. I like you," she said, continuing quickly before he got the wrong idea, "but as a friend. I don't want more than that. I'm happy with Draco, happier than I have been in a while."

"You're a mess. You're exhausted and stressed and you've lost weight," he pointed out.

Hermione rolled her eyes, trying to quell her anger. "Pardon me for having nightmares after fighting in The War, for still caring enough to study for exams. My exhaustion _must_ have something to do with my relationship and I'm certain that, were I to break up with Draco and jump into bed with you, all of my problems would be promptly resolved."

And then, withdrawing her wand, Hermione conjured the same flock of birds she had set on Ron back in their sixth year, this time directing them to Theo. Behind her, she could hear Blaise and Draco's raucous laughter, mingled with the frustrated yells of Theo as he fumbled for his wand to vanish the birds.

She felt a familiar arm around her waist and saw Draco at her side, still laughing as he spoke. "We should get going."

They managed to make their escape quickly, Draco having to pause and listen to the drunken congratulations of a few of his teammates and housemates before they were released into the hallway outside the Room of Requirement.

"I was hoping you'd punch him," Draco commented, still grinning.

"No," Hermione said, "I reserve that sort of treatment for you."

He laughed. "You're too kind. That hurt, you know."

"You deserved it."

"I know, I was being a prat."

"You're always a prat."

He came to a stop, reaching out and grabbing her hand to stop her, too, and pull her against him for a long kiss in the middle of the hallway. There were no students about, and they took the opportunity for a thorough snogging session.

"What's the ribbon about?" he asked when she was successfully rendered breathless. "I like it, but the game's over."

"It's part of your present," she said.

"I get a present?"

Hermione smiled at her boyfriend. "Come on. You'll get it when we get back to my room."

She had to refrain from laughing at Draco's eagerness, his persistent questioning about the gift as they walked. Her soured mood evaporated as he doubled his pace, far too excited for the impending present. She had to speed up as well and there were no more distractions or snogging in small spaces for the rest of the walk, just Draco's enthusiasm to pass the time.

When they reached her apartment, he looked disappointed at the lack of physical present awaiting him, which turned to momentary confusion when she took his hand and began to lead him up to the bedroom. By the time she was sitting on her bed, the confusion had transformed to comprehension and a small smirk.

"Well?" he asked as she crossed her legs.

Hermione reached up and undid the ribbon from her hair, dropping it on the bed. "Congratulations, Draco," she said. "You get to unwrap me."

He started at her feet, carefully unlacing her boots and setting them on the floor, then worked his way up to carefully roll her tights down her legs. He took her hands and tugged her gently to her feet, bending slightly to pick up the ribbon she had abandoned. Stepping behind her, he collected her hair and returned it to the ponytail she had held it in all day, tying the ribbon around the curls gently. Then, returning to face her, he reached around and slowly lowered the back zipper to her dress until it fell to the floor.

"Wow."

Hermione blushed. She felt the urge to cover herself up. The intensity of Draco's eyes, molten silver when they looked at her, set her insides on fire.

He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her, gently at first, until her hands began to push back his jacket until it landed on the floor. Her hands moved to the buttons on his shirt, fumbling to unclasp them until the material fell away, too, and her arms went around his neck and her fingers tugged at his hair.

Draco picked her up with ease, her legs wrapping around his waist, and placed her on the bed, crawling so he was hovering above her.

"Granger, you're perfect," he said, kissing her lips, her jawline, the hollow at the base of her throat. He took the time to kiss every inch of exposed skin, Hermione folding beneath him, until he was a puppeteer. With no rush, he moved back up until his lips were against hers once more. "Perfect and mine."

"Yours."


	22. Chapter 22

_**Friday, June 4**__**th**__**, 1999**_

_**The Black Lake**_

_**4:00PM**_

"I think I messed up my Transfiguration final."

"Hermione, I'm sure you did fine," Daphne said, unclipping the buckles of her sandals to dip her toes into the water. They had just completed their final exam less than an hour ago, and Hermione's anxiety in the wait for results was already setting in. "Let's not talk about school. It's summer. Let's talk about something nice."

Hermione sighed, copying her friend's movements to unlace her shoes. The water was cool in contrast with the mild warmth of the day, though after the gloom of winter, any sunshine was worth a trip outside. Now that exams had reached their conclusion, students littered the grounds. There was little to do until results were released and that wasn't due for almost a week, so their time at Hogwarts was their own. Hermione felt a pang of nostalgia at the thought that this was her last week at the school.

"How's Astoria?" Hermione asked, kicking her foot up slightly. The water rippled with the movement.

"Still a nightmare," Daphne said. "Honestly, she's still pining after Theo whenever they're in the same room, and you're lucky Draco is with you so often or else she'd be after him all the time. And, of course, still blaming you for every negative thing that's happened in her life. It's getting quite tiresome, really, and she better start behaving in time for the wedding. I don't understand why Theo couldn't wait until _after_ I got married to break up with her."

Hermione smiled. Though she didn't admit it, particularly not around Draco, but she missed Theo. When he wasn't acting like a prat or staring at her with an intensity that made her uncomfortable, they got on exceptionally well. Since the incident at the party, he had regarded her with a coolness that upset her. Draco didn't particularly enjoy her talking to him at all, though after the debacle with Ron, he kept his mouth shut about who she was spending her time with.

"What's wrong?" Daphne asked. "Is it Theo?"

"I suppose," Hermione said. "I miss him. Or, rather, how he was before I got together with Draco. Now, he's so _odd_ all the time. I can never be comfortable with him or mention my relationship or even look at my boyfriend without him acting strangely. If Draco hadn't been around, I suppose something might have happened with him, but he's just so full on about it all the time. I just want him to accept my happiness and move on with his own life."

"He's a bit like that," Daphne said, "although I've never seen it to this extent. Theo was an only child, like Draco, and he always got what he wanted without any of the consequences that Drake suffered. His father was a cruel man, but not to his son, and Theo hasn't grown up from that."

"I just want our old friendship back," Hermione said.

"Just give it time," Daphne said. "He'll get over it sooner or later. In more pressing news, have you planned out everything for tomorrow?"

Hermione smiled. Draco's birthday had been another cause for stress, conveniently located right at the end of exams which meant they were free to do as they pleased for celebration, but that also meant planning during the most stressful part of the year. However, being Hermione Granger, she had managed to put together what she hoped would be an intimate yet enjoyable party for her boyfriend, to be hosted at Hogsmeade the following day.

Hermione nodded. "It's all ready. You and Blaise are coming, right?"

"Of course," Daphne said. "Blaise would never give up a chance at a party. Will it be just the four of us, then?"

"And Pansy and Theo," Hermione said.

"Are you sure it's wise inviting Theo?"

"He and Draco are best friends, and I'm the only one he seems to have the problem with. It would be cruel for me to exclude him from the festivities purely because I'm uncomfortable. Plus, Pansy is remarkably good at keeping him in line."

Daphne laughed. "Pansy is good at keeping everyone in line." The blonde stretched, then leant back on her hands. "Is his present ready?"

Again, Hermione smiled. "It's all ready. It's the only thing I was certain he would like."

"You could just do a repeat of the quidditch final," Daphne suggested. Hermione blushed beside her. "Draco was smiling for three days straight after that, and I mean properly smiling."

"Draco never smiles," Hermione said, trying to hide her redness.

"He does at you," Daphne corrected. "Honestly, that boy would do anything you asked of him."

"Except perhaps move to Gryffindor or dye his hair."

The blonde let out a small laugh. "You're right. He's quite attached to the blond."

_**Saturday, June 5**__**th**__**, 1999**_

_**Hermione's Dormitory**_

_**2:00PM**_

"Do we have to go?" Draco asked for the eighth time that day, this time as he came out of the bathroom, towel slung around his hips. They had only risen from bed an hour ago, at Hermione's insistence. "I'd be more than happy to spend the rest of my birthday in bed with you."

Hermione smiled as he came up behind her as she pulled the bedspread into place, his arms around her waist and lips on her neck. She leaned back against him. "We're going," she insisted. "It's not even a big deal. We'll be gone for two hours, maybe three at the absolute most."

"And then we're going back to bed," he decided. He disengaged himself and began to search through the drawer of his things which had accumulated in her room as he searched for some clean clothes. "Why are we even having a party?"

"Truthfully, it's because I want to show of the present I got you," Hermione said, pulling her hair into a ponytail. "And don't say I didn't need to get you anything. There's a real, physical gift this time."

"I was quite fond of the last thing you got me," Draco said as he buttoned up his shirt.

Hermione looked back at him over her shoulder. "I quite liked that as well."

"An even better reason to celebrate in a similar manner," he said as he turned to the mirror, nudging his hair into place. "I suppose you're going to say we should go now?"

"Something along those lines, yes," Hermione said, tucking her wand into her back pocket. "Come on. You can't be late for your own birthday party."

Draco sighed but followed her from the dormitory. It wasn't an official Hogwarts trip to Hogsmeade, Hermione having organized it with the headmistress on her own time, so the castle and the grounds were still quite populated. Most people were outside, soaking up the sunlight, and Hermione could think of no better way to spend her time than walking in the fresh air, despite Draco's continuing complaints about having to get out of bed.

They reached Hogsmeade in record time, hands linked, and Hermione took the lead on the way to The Three Broomsticks where she had booked a function room. As she had guessed, the other guests had arrived. It was just a small gathering, with his closest friends from Hogwarts, his parents, and Daphne's parents. By the time they arrived, everyone else was already gathered, chatting happily with drinks in their hands.

"Nice of you to finally show up, Drake," Blaise said when they walked in. "What kept you?"

"_Blaise_," Daphne said, elbowing her fiancé in the ribs. "Happy birthday, Draco!" Glass in hand, she hugged him warmly.

"Cheers, Daph," Draco said. "And thanks to all of you for coming."

Hermione smiled as Narcissa and Lucius approached. She stepped away, squeezing her boyfriend's hand one last time before joining Daphne, Blaise, Pansy, and Theo. She heard Draco's parents wishing him a happy birthday, Lucius' tone more stilted than his wife's, before she opted to give them more privacy.

"So, Granger, what were you and Draco doing that kept you from his own party?" Pansy asked, sipping at a glass of dark liquor.

"Just having casual conversation," Hermione said, shrugging. "You know, talking about exams and the like."

Pansy's grin rivaled that of The Cheshire Cat's. "Fascinating conversation, no doubt."

Hermione blushed. She didn't let herself look at Theo.

"Oh, Pansy, leave her alone," Daphne said.

"I'm surprised you were able to get Drake here at all," Blaise said. "He hates birthday parties."

"As a rule," Daphne added.

Hermione frowned. "He never told me that. Why?"

"Parties weren't such a fun time at Drake's house when he was younger," Theo said. "There was one in particular. We must have been about eight."

Daphne sighed and shook her head. "I remember that. Lucius lost his temper to a new degree. We were all at Draco's house and we were just having fun, and then he came home from work. It wasn't at all a fun experience."

"What happened?" Hermione asked.

"You've seen the scars, Hermione," Daphne said. "It's what always happened to Draco."

Hermione cast a look over her shoulder at her boyfriend who was standing with his parents and Daphne's, shifting his weight from foot to foot. Lucius had rested his hand on his son's shoulder, the other clasped around the head of his cane. To outsiders, it would look as though Draco was providing support for his father, but the whiteness of Lucius' knuckles on his son's shoulder couldn't be missed.

"What fun party conversation we're having," Pansy said, finishing her drink. "It's a _party_. Can't we talk about something more interesting? Or at least cheery. Like your wedding, Daph. Surely you'd rather talk about that than Drake's messed up childhood."

"Surely you've all heard enough of me talking about the wedding," Daphne said, shaking her head. "How did everyone's exams go, then?"

They dissolved into easy conversation, Hermione finding a drink and sneaking glances across at Draco as his interaction with his parents continued.

* * *

><p>"Here," Hermione said, after all the other gifts were cleared from the table. She passed him the last gift, her present to him, feeling her stomach tie itself in knots. As a final thought, she removed the envelope which lay on top.<p>

"No card?" he asked, taking the neatly wrapped package and running his fingers along the smooth silver paper.

"You get that after."

He raised his eyebrows but said nothing, plucking at the dark blue ribbon until it loosened. Peeling back the paper, his eyes widened as bright green fabric spilled out. "Granger, this really isn't my colour," he said but Hermione could see he was struggling to keep the smile from his face.

"And now you get this," she said, handing the unopened envelope over, Draco's address inked onto the front.

He tore it open hastily, pulling the letter out. "Mister Malfoy," he read, "we are pleased to offer you a position at St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries in our internship program, starting on the first of September."

"Oh, darling, that's wonderful news!" Narcissa said, first to react out of the happily surprised gathering. She pulled her son into a long hug. Lucius stepped forward, too, shaking Draco's hand.

Hermione let the rest of the guests offer their congratulations and return to their conversations before stepping towards her boyfriend.

"Happy birthday, Draco," she said, kissing him softly, quickly.

"How did you know?" he asked. "Did you read the letter?"

She shook her head. "I always knew you'd get it. You're brilliant. You mightn't believe it, and you might believe that the bad outweighs the good, but it doesn't, Draco. Not anymore."

He pulled her close against his chest, ignoring their audience, pressing his lips into her hair. "Thanks, Granger."

_**Saturday, June 5**__**th**__**, 1999**_

_**Hermione's Dormitory**_

_**5:00PM**_

The sun was low on the horizon as Hermione rested her head against Draco's chest, back in bed as she had promised him. Beneath the sheets, their legs were entwined and his arm was tight around her body, keeping her close to him.

"Where are you going to go after this year?" he asked. His fingers were pulling lightly on the end of her hair. "Where will you live?"

Hermione sighed. The issue had been pressing on her mind, but it was something she had hoped to avoid. With her parents still absent and her lack of relationship with Ron, her prior plans were now defunct. She knew that Draco was going to offer her a place in his manor, and although she was grateful to him for it, there was no part of her which believed she would be able to live in that place. "I'm not sure," she said. "I'll get a flat somewhere, I suppose. Take some time to figure it out. The more pressing issue on my mind is what I actually intend to _do_ when I graduate."

"I suppose staying with me is out of the question?" Draco asked.

Hermione pulled out of his embrace and propped herself up on one elbow. "Not in that house, Draco. Your father would never allow it, and I don't think I could stomach walking through there everyday. I thought I was going to die in there. Apart from your room and the library, I would never be comfortable. I could never call it a home." She could see the disappointment in his eyes.

He nodded, lips thin. "A flat it is, then."

She resumed her position, this time shifting slightly so one hand was splayed across his bare chest. His skin was taut and tense beneath her touch and she fought off another sigh as she pressed her lips to the pale flesh.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: A bit of a short, choppy chapter just to mix things up a bit. There'll be one more chapter followed by an epilogue! Let me know what you think in a review!**


	23. Chapter 23

_**Friday, June 11**__**th**__**, 1999**_

_**Hermione's Dormitory**_

_**8:30AM**_

Hermione woke to an empty bed, a routine that was becoming all too familiar in her final week at Hogwarts. Draco's absence had been noted all too strongly, with her waking up without him beside her more often than not. Whilst she was more than capable of surviving without a boyfriend, Hermione was still quick to note her disappointment at starting each day in a lonely bed.

Not only was Draco's absence in the morning becoming a ritual, but he had become even more evasive when they were awake. They spent the majority of their time in each other's company, and although she was finding the chance to reconnect with Ginny, Neville, and Luna an enjoyable experience, she missed Draco's presence. There had even been a level of evasiveness from her other Slytherin friends, Theo the only exception, and Hermione felt as though she was definitely missing out on some piece of important information.

She stretched, tossing the sheet she had slept under. It had been almost unseasonably warm, but the weather hadn't been an accurate reflection of her mood at all. Whilst she had spent most of the past week soured, the sun had been bright and students had relished in the sunlight. When she wasn't with her friends, she had taken to staying in her apartment, packing up her things as melancholy sat in her bones, and resenting the relaxation of her peers.

With only two days before she was required to vacate Hogwarts, she still had no place to live. A resistance on her part to bring about an end to her time at the school, she hadn't been looking for a place with much ferocity. Not only was her future home life uncertain, but a defined career path still hadn't jumped out at her. She was enjoying the relaxing post-exam haze she had been living in, having not realised just how exhausted her body was during the school term.

As she showered and dressed for the day, Hermione pushed thoughts of the future out of her mind, determined to live as much in the moment as an absent boyfriend and no home could allow her to. Clad in jeans and a light t-shirt, she journeyed to her kitchenette, deciding on a pot of tea in her room in lieu of breakfast. Instead of the clean counter that she had gone to bed with, there was a small envelope and a newspaper cutting resting on the marble.

"Morning," Draco's voice came from one of the couches where he was already sitting, feet up on the table, The Daily Prophet open in front of him. "Sleep well?"

"I didn't think you'd be here," Hermione said, not looking at either the contents of the counter or her boyfriend. There was bitterness in her throat that made her feel ill at Draco's ease. "It's almost the first time this week."

"I've been busy," he said. "Were you going to make some tea?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You know, I'm sure it wouldn't kill you to make yourself a pot. I don't see why you need me to do it for you." Even with her spite, she began to prepare a pot, filling the kettle with water and spooning tea leaves into the china pot. "Is that your mess on the counter?"

Draco put the newspaper down, folding it neatly and tossing it onto the seat beside him. "I'd hardly call that a mess, Granger, and no. It's from me to you." He stood, and Hermione noticed he hadn't yet showered, hair still a mess and only wearing his pyjama bottoms. Mentally, she kicked herself for looking. "I'm going to have a quick shower. Save some tea for me."

He didn't even kiss her on the cheek as he walked by, and Hermione felt furious tears at her eyes. She rubbed at them as the kettle began to whistle and the water started in the bathroom, the heavy splash of the shower spray clearly audible from the door Draco had left open. Her hand shaking, she poured the water into the pot, carried it over to the coffee table, then returned to the kitchen to collect a cup and saucer for herself, a strainer, and a small jug of milk. She piled them precariously and walked them over, placing them beside the pot, making a concerted effort to ignore the envelope.

She sat, crossing her legs beneath her and trying to focus on the headlines detailing the banal love affair of a celebrity witch who Hermione cared nothing for. After pouring her cup of tea, she finally succumbed to the pull of the envelope, standing and picking up the newspaper clipping first.

It was from the property section of The Daily Prophet, advertising a one bedroom, spacious flat with good light above an empty shop front for rent. The two came as a package deal, and as Hermione looked at the small image, she felt her interest peak. Returning the clipping to the counter, she opened the envelope. It held two pieces of paper, and the first one she pulled out was a thick piece of card. In elegant scripture Hermione knew belonged to the wizard currently in her shower, was a short note:

_The wards will be changed by Sunday. Your rent is paid in advance for a year. _

_Do with it what you will._

_Yours,_

_Draco_

"Oh," Hermione breathed, returning the card to the envelope and withdrawing the cheque. Were she not a well-educated, rational young woman, she would have claimed her heart had stopped as she looked at this piece of paper.

Again, in Draco's neat script, was a filled out cheque for five thousand galleons. In the memo line, he had written: _To your future_. She placed a hand against her heart, feeling it pulse rapidly against her chest.

Draco's footsteps approached, and she turned around quickly, realising there were tears in her eyes as he came up to her, still damp from the shower with a towel slung around his hips. Without missing a beat, Hermione jumped into him. He caught her, wrapping his arms around her and managing to find his footing before they both fell to the floor.

"You like it?" he asked. Her response was to kiss him deeply, with the kind of passion that had been missing from their relationship since his birthday had passed by. When she was thoroughly out of breath, Hermione disengaged herself. The front of her shirt was wet, having dried the remnants of his shower off, and his hair was dishevelled.

"I can't accept this, Draco. The flat is one thing, but the cheque? I don't even know how I can begin to accept one of them, let alone both," she said.

"You can accept it, and you will. I was under the impression that you would be stubborn about it, so the cheque was more informing you. I've contacted Gringotts and the money has been transferred to your account," he said. "It's a graduation gift, Granger. Anyone else would take it in a heartbeat."

"It's so much, Draco. It's _too_ much."

He rolled his eyes. "Too bad. It's yours."

"What about furniture?" Hermione asked. "I can't just move in. I don't have any furniture."

"That's been arranged. I've had some help organising it over the past week. As I said, do with it what you will, but it's there if you would like it."

Hermione shook her head again. "No. I can't take it. I bought you a pair of robes for your birthday, Draco. I hadn't even figured out what to get you for graduation. What sort of pressure do you think this places on me? It's a whole flat, Draco. That's not just something I can accept so readily."

"Then take your time accepting it," he said, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. "It's highly likely that you're the only reason I'm still at Hogwarts. Without you, McGonagall would've found any reason to boot me out of here. You got me an internship at one of the best wizarding hospitals in Europe, and to be frank, you're the reason I've managed to stay sane for the past six months. Besides, this gives me a place to go that's better than the manor."

Hermione sighed.

"I'm just saying, it's there for you whether you'd like it or not," he said. "I should probably put some real clothes on now."

She rolled her eyes at her boyfriend's back, picking up the newspaper clipping and studying the tiny image again. Even from the bad quality, she could imagine herself calling the building home. She could see herself opening the front door of the downstairs shop, imagine the windows lined with books, entertaining customers with the literature she wanted to sell.

"Fine," she said to herself. "I'll take it."

"Thank Salazar," Draco said as he re-entered the room, making her jump. He was fastening up the last button on his shirt as he approached. "Now, I've got to go and pack considering I spent the last week in Diagon Alley. You should eat something."

"Thanks, _dad_," Hermione said, tilting her face up towards him so he could kiss her lips as he departed.

He paused when he reached the door. "If I don't see you before then, come to the Room of Requirement at eight. Ted's got one last firewhiskey fuelled romp planned."

_**Friday, June 11**__**th**__**, 1999**_

_**Gryffindor Girls' Dormitory**_

_**7:30PM**_

"He got you an apartment?" Ginny repeated for the third time, shaking her head. Her red hair had been artfully curled and then dishevelled, and her makeup was flawless. She was currently holding Hermione's head in one hand and a makeup brush in the other, dusting it across Hermione's cheeks. "What sort of present is that?"

"An excessive one," Hermione said. She had decided to keep the cheque a secret for now, until she was certain of what she was going to do with the money. "But a practical one, particularly in my situation. It'll give me the opportunity to sort out my plans for the future without concern over where I'm going to be living. And it's either I live there or it goes empty."

Ginny sighed and continued to shake her head, stepping away. She was clad in a black dress that came to mid thigh, standing out against her milky skin and vibrant hair. "There. You're done. Now, can we go?"

"The party doesn't start for another half hour, Gin," Hermione said, standing up and moving to look at herself in the mirror. She had on of Daphne's countless dresses, having exhausted her own supply and deciding that if she was going to keep up with the Slytherin's desire for constant formal events, she was going to need a wardrobe upgrade. This time, her dress was covered in pastel flowers, falling slightly lower than Ginny's, and completely unlike anything she owned. "I suppose we could go early and get the lay of the land. The Slytherins started at seven."

Ginny laughed. "I'll never get used to you talking about them so casually," she said. "But if they've already been drinking for half an hour, then we have a bit of catching up to do. Shall we?"

Hermione rolled her eyes but followed her friend out the dormitory door and down the steps, past the students from the lower years who weren't invited to the soiree. Some of the first years were still in states of shock at seeing Hermione and their wide eyes brought colour to her cheeks as they walked by, climbing out the portrait hole.

The pair kept their heads down, knowing that as it wasn't officially a Hogwarts sanctioned event that there wasn't even supposed to be a party. Though they didn't run into any professors, Hermione was quite certain that any of the teachers would have let them carry on.

By the time they reached the hallway outside of the Room of Requirement, Ginny's excitement was palpable. They walked past the entrance three times, thinking as hard and as accurately as they could until the door appeared, thrumming with music.

"Come on, then," Hermione said, pulling the door open and letting Ginny enter first.

The interior was decorated in dark wood, a seamless transition from hardwood floors to the bar where the usual invisible bartenders were waiting for drink requests. The walls were dark, giving the whole room an ambience of an upscale venue, but the loveliest part of the room was the ceiling, in Hermione's opinion. Layers of fabric in each house colour had been artfully hung until they were entwined, covering whatever ceiling might have actually been in place. The whole room vibrated with pulsing bass.

The first half of the room was set up in its usual lounge style, with small, plush chairs seated around tables, and a few taller tables with barstools. The second half faded into a dance floor which Hermione was certain would be well-used by the end of the night. Draco and Theo were sitting in the nearest chairs, drinks in hand, and they looked up at Hermione and Ginny's arrival. Hermione felt her cheeks glow as both looked her up and down.

"You're early, Granger," Draco said, placing his drink on the small table in front of him and coming over to her. He offered her a small kiss on the lips, both ignoring Ginny's disgusted face in their periphery. "As usual, you look great."

Again, her cheeks pinked. Draco was distracted, though, as guests started to arrive. Blaise and Daphne entered first, followed by a mixed group of houses. Everyone was elaborately dressed and Hermione smiled as Daphne came over to her immediately, leaving Blaise with his best friend.

"You look wonderful, Hermione," Daphne said, kissing her on the cheek. The Slytherin was in a form fitting dark blue dress, the sleeves long and sheer, the neckline encrusted with jewels. "As do you, Ginny."

"Thanks," Ginny said, somewhat awkward as Daphne rested a hand on her upper arm briefly. "You look great, too, of course."

"Come, shall we get drinks?" Daphne suggested, nodding towards the bar. More and more people were starting to arrive and Hermione was certain the wait for drinks would soon be tiresomely long, so she and Ginny nodded.

Before they could start to move, Theo appeared at her side with a hand on her lower back. "Do you ladies mind if I borrow Hermione for a moment? Go ahead and grab her a drink. We won't be more than a minute," he said.

Daphne and Ginny both cast her cursory glances but she shook her head at them, turning to face Theo and following him away from the group who were converging at the bar. She stopped walking when they were far enough away not to be listened in on but close enough for a hasty escape should the need arise.

"You look…wow," he said, taking a stray piece of hair that had fallen in her face and tucking it behind her ear. She felt discomfort trickle down her spine.

"Theo, what did you want to talk to me about?" she asked.

"I wanted a minute with you before I see you with Drake for the rest of the night," he said. "But I guess you don't want that."

Hermione sighed. "Theo, I like you as a friend. Perhaps there was a time when our friendship could have progressed to something more, but that time has passed," she said, taking a step back. "I'm with Draco and you know that. You need to move on and it needs to be for good, because it's making it harder for me to be your friend when I see the way you look at me."

"It's not exactly easy to see the way you look at Drake every day," Theo snapped. "You'd think the sun shines out of his arse the way you stare after him. Have you really forgotten everything that he did to you? Is he really that good of a shag that you can forget it?"

"I haven't forgotten, Theodore," Hermione said, "but I've forgiven him."

"I guess he must be a good shag, then."

There was a sharp _smack_ as Hermione slapped Theo across the face and the sting radiated through her hand after the impact. People turned to stare as he put a hand to his cheek which was quickly turning red. Draco was by her side, an arm around her waist.

"What's the problem, Ted?" he asked, voice level but cold.

"It's fine," Theo said, removing his hand from his face and straightening out his suit jacket. The pink handprint was luminescent against his skin. "There's no problem."

Hermione could feel herself becoming overwhelmed, her throat raw and eyes beginning to burn. "I'm going to go, Draco," she said, removing his arm from around her. "You stay. Have a good night. I'll see you later."

She kissed her boyfriend on the cheek and vehemently ignored Theo as she made her exit, head down to avoid the curious stares of her peers. Once outside the Room of Requirement, she pried off her shoes to stop them pinching around the toe. She swallowed heavily on her walk back to her room, ignoring anyone she passed on her return.

The climb up the dormitory stairs seemed painstakingly long and as soon as she crossed the threshold into her own apartment and knew she was alone, she let out a painful sob. It wasn't that she was sad, but her anger over Theo's true Slytherin nature being revealed was like a sharp stab.

After the singular sob she was able to collect herself. She found an elastic and pulled her hair back into a ponytail and set about making herself a cup of tea, thinking about what Theo had said. She was well aware of how Draco had treated her in the past, and she was even more aware of how much he had changed, how many times he had apologised, and how he had been driven to behave in such a callous manner. Theo, on the other hand, had never been openly mean to her. She knew that part of his reaction was out of spite for her choosing Draco over him, but the extent of his cruelty was exceptional.

She shook her head as the kettle boiled, breaking her out of her reverie. As she poured the water into her cup, she heard footsteps coming up her staircase, feet dragging. She didn't turn to face the door as the footsteps stopped and there was a quiet knock against the wall, announcing their arrival.

"Hermione," Theo said from the doorway. "Will you at least look at me?"

Slowly, she turned, staring steadily across the room at him. "What do you want, Theodore?"

"Daph sent me to apologise," Theo said. "And she's right. I was a prat."

"I don't care if you've received everything you've ever asked for in the past, Theo," she said. "I'm not some commodity you can get just because you keep asking for me. I'm not interested in you in that manner. I'm happy with Draco, and you repeatedly attempting to seduce me away won't change a thing about how I feel about him."

"I know," he said, "and I'm sorry. Like I said, I was being a prat about the whole situation."

She offered him a thin smile, still stinging inside from his earlier words. "Go back to the party, Theo," she said. "Find a pretty girl to take back to your room."

He gave a small laugh. "I might have to pass on the last bit. The only one I'm after isn't interested."

Hermione shook her head as his footsteps disappeared down the stairs. She collected her cup of tea and went over to the couch, facing the grounds when she settled. It was a clear night, the stars vibrant against the inky blue of the sky, and she breathed in the clean air of the Hogwarts grounds. She thought back to her very first night at Hogwarts, when she had been relishing in the excitement of being a witch and of arriving at a magical school. By the time she fell asleep on that first night, her pillow was soaked with tears she had worked hard to keep muffled.

In the beginning, she had never thought the castle, however wonderful, was going to become such an important place to her. She had a home back in London with her parents, and no matter how comfortable she was at Hogwarts, there was nothing like going back to her childhood home. But now, with her parents still absent, there was nowhere that felt more like home than her dormitory in the castle.

She finished her cup of tea whilst overlooking the grounds before deciding that she had left it late enough to finish packing her final few possessions before moving out in the morning. After cleaning up her cup, she moved methodically around her apartment, stacking everything up and putting it away neatly into her trunk. It was close to ten o'clock when she finished and exhaustion was heavy in her bones. All that was left of her belongings was the outfit she had planned to wear on the train, folded neatly and resting atop her chest of drawers.

After a long shower, she pulled on her pyjamas and climbed into an empty bed, turning to face the open window. The moonlight leaked in and splashed across the quilt and on her last night at Hogwarts, Hermione fell asleep on a pillow soaked with tears.

_**Saturday, June 12**__**th**__**, 1999**_

_**Platform 9 ¾**_

_**5:00PM**_

Hermione stared out the window as the Hogwarts Express pulled into the station, searching along the platform for Harry and Ron. They had promised they would meet her and Ginny there when the train arrived and they didn't disappoint, Hermione spying Ron's vibrant hair above the crowd, Harry right beside him.

"Go," Draco said, nudging at her side. "I'll get the trunks."

She smiled at her boyfriend and slipped out of their compartment, waving at Blaise and Daphne who were occupying the seat opposite. She was able to push her way through the crowds of students eager to depart for their summer holiday and emerged onto the platform, standing on her toes to regain sight of her best friends.

"Hermione!"

She heard Harry calling and turned, noticing their approach. Without thinking, she took the last few steps towards them at a run and jumped into Harry's arms, wrapping herself around him. He staggered back for a few steps before catching himself, laughing and holding onto her just as tight.

"Miss us?"

"Just a bit," she said, unwrapping herself and offering Ron a hug with equal enthusiasm. "How've you been?"

"Great," Ron answered, Harry distracted by something over Hermione's shoulder. She turned and saw her best friend greet Ginny with a passionate embrace, the display of affection bringing a smile to her face. "What about you?"

"Not bad," she said, continuing to grin. "No Fay?"

Ron shrugged. "It didn't work out. Not a big deal, though. Plenty of girls out there when you're a famous war hero."

"I'm sorry, Ron," Hermione said, hugging him again.

"No, really," he said, "it's alright. Anyway, Harry and I were wondering, since you don't have anywhere else to go, if you wanted to come stay with us for a little while. At least until you get yourself set up and sorted out."

"Really," Harry interjected, returning to the conversation holding Ginny's hand and lugging her trunk with the other, "we won't accept 'no' for an answer."

"I'm afraid you might have to," Hermione said, anxious to find out how her best friends would take the news. "Draco has set me up with a place in Diagon Alley as a graduation gift. I'm moving in straight from here."

"Isn't that a bit of an elaborate gift?" Harry asked.

"I suppose, but it's also quite a practical one given my lack of living situation now that I've graduated. Besides, it's far more suitable to all of our situations compared to me sleeping on the couch at your place," she explained. She looked over her shoulder as Draco approached, pushing their trunks towards them on a trolley. Crookshanks sat in a basket atop them, hissing at everything that got in their way.

"Potter, Weasley," Draco offered when he joined them, holding out a stiff hand to them both. The ensuing handshakes were short and sharp and Hermione felt a swell of happiness at the cooperation between the two. "Granger, we better be off so we can get you settled in before it's too late."

"I'll see you soon, okay?" Hermione said, hugging Harry, Ron, and Ginny quickly. "We can have dinner some time next week in my new place."

"Let us know if you need anything," Ron said, waving as she took Draco's hand and Disapparated.

Diagon Alley was lighting up for the evening's business, the street recently becoming more populated by cafes and restaurants, turning it into somewhat of a hub for nightlife. They had landed in a quieter area, filled with more independently owned business and less restaurants. Most stores were closed or in the process of serving their last customers, and all were small, neat shopfronts that boasted exquisite taste without excess.

The building they had landed in front of was two storeys high, with a white exterior and neat planter boxes on the second floor windows. Everything about the exterior seemed quaint and comfortable, and Hermione couldn't help but smile when she put her hand on the knob and twisted it with trouble.

"The locks are warded to respond only to your touch," Draco explained. "And, er, mine. But that was just for when I was sorting out the rent agreement and everything. I can change the wards, if you'd like."

"Keep it," Hermione said, grinning as she walked into what would be the shopfront.

The interior was quite simple, with no real furnishings set up. There were hardwood floors and white walls, and plenty of room if she did decide to go into the retail business. Draco pointed out the way upstairs, to a spiral staircase made of wrought iron that hid behind the corner. Hermione left her trunk at the foot of the stairs as she began the climb.

"Oh, Draco," she said as she emerged onto the landing. It was a large, open plan living room, dining room, and kitchen, and it had all been artfully decorated. The same white walls and dark floors were continued upstairs, and the furnishings were all clean lines with little clutter. She was drawn to a side table that rested against a wall, where small photo frames held images she treasured. There were multiple photos of her, Harry, and Ron throughout their time together, and a few of her and Draco, taken at moments when she had been unaware of a photographer's presence.

The one in the middle was what really stopped her. It was a photograph of Hermione and her parents, one she had left with them when she had gone hunting horcruxes. It had been on their holiday to France before her third year at Hogwarts, before everything had truly become so difficult, and she thought it had been lost forever.

"Daphne helped me with the decorating," he said.

"Where did you find this?" Hermione asked, holding up the photograph of her and her parents. "I thought it was gone."

"I had a bit of help. I couldn't track down your parents but I could track down some of their belongings. I thought you might like this one," he said. "Do you want to see the rest of the place?"

The rest of the apartment was just as lovely. Hermione was shocked at the lengths Daphne had gone to when it came to detail, as there wasn't a thing out of place in any of the rooms. The photographic memories continued throughout, interrupted by the occasional floral display or piece of art. The bedroom was the final room they explored, housing a large bed with countless plush pillows and a regal red bedspread to remind her of her Gryffindor heritage.

"It's perfect," she said. "The whole place is perfect."

"Do you think you'll stay?" Draco asked, pulling her into his arms as they stood at the foot of the bed.

"I can't see why I'd ever leave."

**A/N: All that's left now is the epilogue! Please review!**


	24. Epilogue: The Wedding

**Epilogue**

_**The Wedding**_

August had brought with it a thick blanket of heat. Any journey outside was sure to result in a layer of sweat quickly forming and Hermione was grateful setting up her shop allowed her to spend so much time in the cool interior of her future store. Now, however, she was dressed in the lightest dress she owned, forced to face the weather for Daphne and Blaise's wedding.

Draco had spent the night out for Blaise's stag party and she wasn't certain she wanted to ask what had occurred. Daphne's hen night had been held earlier in the week and had consisted of a quiet, refined dinner and fancy cocktails at the bride's favourite bar. Hermione had in bed with Draco before midnight and he had made no promises of doing the same for his best friend's party.

As soon as she stepped outside, the air was tight around her. It was barely after nine o'clock but Hermione knew that if she was to spend any more than ten minutes in the heat, she would begin to sweat. Ensuring her residence was correctly warded and looking through the front window at just how ready her shop was to meet the world, Hermione smiled as she Disapparated.

She appeared outside the gates of Daphne's home. They had been left open and she walked up the long driveway, feeling sweat collect on the back of her neck. Daphne was waiting to greet her when she reached the front door wearing a silk robe, her hair tied off her face and not a trace of makeup.

"You're late," Daphne said, hugging Hermione and kissing both her cheeks. "Come on, we best start getting you ready."

Hermione followed Daphne up the stairs and into the bedroom which she had stayed in over Easter break. Now, the room had been transformed into some sort of dressing room. Astoria and Pansy were already being tended to, having their nails painted carefully by enchanted brushes. There were glasses of champagne sitting on the tables in front of them and elaborate fruit platters, Daphne rushing Hermione to one of the empty seats.

"Now, leave your things here. Go and put on one of the robes in the bathroom and then they'll get started on your nails and we'll go from there," Daphne said.

"I'd suggest allowing extra time to work on her hair," Pansy commented, eliciting a chuckle from Astoria. Hermione rolled her eyes and Daphne pointedly ignored her bridesmaid as she returned to her seat to have her preparation continue.

Hermione did as she was told, remaining entirely in her head as she changed and returned to the makeshift dressing room and took her seat. As her nails began to be magically worked on, an enchanted nail file working to smooth the edges down, her mind drifted to a niggling thought that had existed in her head since the first night she had spent with Draco in her new apartment. It was something she had been contemplating for a while but had been too busy to focus on. Now, however, with nothing to distract her but the enchanted nail products and quiet conversation between Astoria and Pansy, the thought was free to take over her mind.

She wrestled with the conundrum as her hair was yanked and straightened and curled and pulled up into an elegant ponytail to match the other bridesmaids, and as the last of her makeup was applied and she was zipped into her dress, her steely Gryffindor courage set in and she made her final decision on the matter, determined to talk to Draco the first chance she got. Hermione could hear guests arriving as she waited upstairs with Pansy and Astoria, Daphne being zipped into her dress in the dressing room.

For her bridesmaids, Daphne had opted for dresses which just grazed the floor as they stood in teetering heels, the satin pale pink and crinkled, ruched at the waist and dropping elegantly down. The dresses were spectacular in their simplicity and Hermione was terrified to lean against anything for fear of damaging the material in some way. She held onto the bouquet of delicate white carnations carefully, just wishing time would pass faster and they day would go on.

The door to the bedroom opened and Daphne emerged, preceded by her tearful mother who quickly descended down the stairs to take her seat. Beautiful as ever, the Slytherin had pulled out all the stops for her wedding day. Her dress was something out of a fairytale, with swathes of tulle artfully layered atop each other. With long sleeves, one shoulder exposed, and an intricately beaded bodice, she looked ethereal. Her blonde hair was restrained in a messy bun at the nape of her neck, held in place with a hairpin that glimmered with every step she took.

"Well?" Daphne asked, shifting slightly so they could see the back of the dress and the true artistry of her entire appearance.

"Daphne, you look beautiful. Really, really beautiful," Hermione said, reaching out and squeezing her friend's hand. The sight of her friend looking so radiant and happy brought a thick knot of emotion to Hermione's throat and again, she willed for the ceremony to be over, worried her courage would waver. As the thought crossed her mind again, Daphne and Astoria's father arrived at the top of the stairs, signalling that it was time for everything to begin.

"Are you nervous, Daph?" Pansy asked, handing the bride her bouquet.

"No," Daphne said, shaking her head and dislodging a few locks of hair which fell carefully around her face. "Just excited."

As the wedding was to be held on the grounds, they were able to take their time as they made their way down the stairs, guests already assembled outside and waiting. Hermione was certain her nerves were running more amok than Daphne's were. The bride was the most relaxed out of everyone. Her father had wet eyes and kept clearing his throat as he helped his daughter down the stairs, and Pansy and Astoria both seemed anxious for Daphne who floated down as though she didn't have a care in the world.

When they reached the bottom and made it to the back door, they took their places. Pansy was to be the first bridesmaid, followed by Hermione, then Astoria. The music struck up and Pansy smiled at the group before exiting through the almost-sheer curtains which had been hung up. Hermione counted the beats of the classic wedding march, waiting as they had all practiced until the time was perfect for her to make her entrance. She took a deep breath and willed herself not to trip as she pushed through the fabric.

The garden had been decorated beautifully, again looking as though it was out of a woodland fairytale. Flowers seemed to blossom from everywhere and magic was heavy in the air, in aura and atmosphere, as Hermione followed Pansy down the aisle. Her focus was on Draco, waiting at the altar, grinning at her with pure joy. For a brief moment she imagined herself in a white dress floating on an aisle made of flower petals. She took her spot beside Pansy, opposing one of Blaise's cousins on the side of the groomsmen, and gave a relieved laugh as she looked at Draco. He hadn't taken his eyes off her for a moment.

After Astoria joined them, the wedding guests stood up. The music climaxed, and Daphne appeared, her arm linked with her father's. She glowed as they took their time on the aisle, and the general attitude Hermione could garner from the guests was that of awe.

"Holy shit," Blaise said. The wedding party laughed quietly at his exclamation. Hermione was certain she had never seen a couple as in love as the one about to get married and was greeted again by the thick knot in her throat.

Daphne took her place at the alter and her father returned to his seat, and the ceremony was lost to Hermione in a blur of inexplicable tears. They cleared up as Draco pulled the rings from his inside pocket, a pair of platinum rings crafted to look like snakes caught in loops. As the rings were put on, Blaise and Daphne were instructed to take each other's left hand in their own.

"It is with the greatest pleasure," the wizard officiator said, withdrawing his wand from his robes, "that I enter you into the bond of matrimony." Gold sparks fell from the end of his wand as he waved it over their linked hands, the magic settling into their skin. "And now, I am honoured to pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."

The couple needed no prompting as Blaise pulled his wife into a lengthy kiss, holding her close as the guests stood and applauded. Hermione looked to Draco, knowing he hadn't taken his eyes from her since she first began her walk down the aisle. The ceremony began to dissolve around them as complex enchantments turned the area into a location fit for the reception. Hermione followed Pansy and Astoria back inside, looking back at her boyfriend as he moved congratulate Blaise and Daphne.

Once inside, they quickly abandoned their bouquets and moved to clean themselves up. All three of them had cried and Hermione felt like the emotional outburst had brought them closer in some odd way, a thought only further reinforced when Pansy actually offered her a hug as they gushed over the ceremony. Hermione was able to chime in occasionally, though having had her vision obscured and a ring in her ears, her observations were few and far between.

"We should get back down there before the dancing starts," Pansy said. "There's never a better time to hook up than at a wedding, and I think Draco might combust if he doesn't get his hands on you soon, Granger."

Hermione laughed and joined the pair in their discussions of available men who were in attendance. By the time they returned to the party, the entire area had been transformed into a dream wedding reception. The otherworldly theme had continued throughout and Hermione's breath was taken away by the beauty of it all. She searched through the crowds of people, waiting until there was Draco's flash of blonde hair. He found her at the same time and they met in the middle, right on the edge of the dance floor which was soon to be utilised.

"Ladies and gentlemen, witches and wizards," came a smooth voice from nowhere clear, though it boomed over the whole party. "Allow me to introduce, for the first time, Mr and Mrs Blaise Zabini."

There was raucous applause as all the guests turned to the back doors to face Blaise and Daphne as they exited, holding hands and looking almost impossibly radiant. At the top of the stairs, they paused and shared a kiss. From somewhere in the crowd, Theo whooped loudly, leading their audience to laugh. The couple broke apart and made their way to the dance floor, slow music starting up as Daphne looped her arms around her husband's neck and Blaise pulled his new wife close to him.

Camera flashes went off as the pair began their first dance as a married couple, spinning elegantly around the dance floor. When the music ended, Blaise dipped his bride and sealed the dance with another long kiss, to more applause from the guests as others began to fill the floor. The music gained in tempo and Hermione followed Draco onto the floor at his insistence.

He held her against his chest, her head on his shoulder and swayed with the music, increasing their steps as the beat quickened. His lips pressed to her forehead and she smiled into his suit jacket.

"You look-," Draco began.

"Draco," Hermione interrupted. She pulled back slightly, looking up into his face. "I love you."

For a few moments he was silent, her heart sinking into her stomach. At the same time, something rose in her throat, an awful fear that she had quashed since the beginning of their relationship, the horrific doubt that Harry and Ron had been right, that Draco _was_ using her for her name, to regain his family's status. All in a rush, she felt nauseas, dizzy, too cold and too hot at the same time. Just as she was about to break away, shattered, Draco leant down and kissed her.

It was like their first kiss, mind-blowing, heart-stopping. In the middle of the dance floor, as a hundred other people twirled around them, dresses fanning out as they dipped and spun, Hermione felt herself melt away underneath Draco's touch. So caught up in the kiss, she lost all knowledge of their place and of societal norms, letting herself get lost, arms wrapped around his neck, fingers tugging lightly on the hair that tickled the nape of his neck.

Breathless when they parted, she couldn't keep the smile from her face. "Does that mean you love me, too?"

With the familiar Malfoy smirk, he kissed her once more, this time softly and slowly. "Something like that."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I can't believe it's done! I'd like to thank everyone who has read/favourited/followed/reviewed/etc. this story. It means so much to me to have so much support! I've got a new story in the works and am thinking of working on a Marauder-era piece, as well, and hopefully will have a few Yule-themed stories up in the not so distant future now that I've finished university for the year.**

**Again, thank you so much for all the support! It's been fun! **


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